Phoenix Fire formerly known as Pheonix Tails
by Mageling
Summary: The fifth year has begun, and Hermoine has found herself making friends with the new transfer student. The DADA teacher is very odd, and Hermoine doesn't trust her. Someone is still trying to kill Harry. But who is friend and who is foe? Completed!! R
1. Chapter 1

Phoenix Fire

  
  
  
  


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Hogsmeade or any character except Patrice and Mrs. Coeur (the DADA teacher). Please ask if you feel the need to use them.

  
  


Chapter One: The Transfer Student

  
  


Hermoine waved goodbye to her parents as she dragged her suitcase after Ron and Harry. It had been a long, worrying summer. She hadn't even enjoyed her time with Viktor. She fell asleep every night praying that she saw Harry and Ron again. She had a rock of worry in her stomach since she had left Hogwarts.

Ron poked her.

"Hurry up, Hermoine, or we'll be late."

"I'm never late," replied Hermoine stiffly. She hurried through the wall to reach platform 9 3/4. 

Before she knew what happened, Hermoine found herself on the ground. She looked up to see what she had run into. A pale, short teen girl, about Hermoine's age, looked at her. The girl's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry," she stammered. Immediately, Hermoine noticed the girl's accent. It was definitely not British. She sounded. . . . American?

Harry and Ron were suddenly there. The girl stretched out her hand to Hermoine. Hermoine took it. She pulled herself to her feet.

"I'm Hermoine," she said. "Sorry about that."

"It was my fault," the blond girl replied with a shrug.

"Are you American?" asked Ron rudely. Hermoine shaved her elbow into his side.

"Hey! What did you do that for?" The girl smiled slowly, as if she knew something they didn't.

"No. I'm Canadian, from Toronto."

The train whistled impatiently. A look of panic flashed across the girl's eyes.

"Where do I-" she began. Hermoine watched in stunned surprise as Ron practically vaulted over Harry to take the girl's luggage. She shook her head in disbelief.

"This way," Hermoine offered, leading the way. The girl shook Ron from her luggage, insisting that she could carry it on her own.

The four of them had boarded the train before Hermoine realized that she hadn't yet asked the girl what her name was. However, she had somehow disappeared into the throng. Hermoine shrugged it off, knowing that they would learn her name when they reached Hogwarts. She took her usual place with Ron and Harry. 

"What in the name of magic was that?" Harry asked his friend, punching his arm lightly. Ron shrugged. 

"Got me." He looked puzzled. It wasn't an unusual look for Ron, but Hermoine was genuinely concerned about him. He wasn't the hold-a-door-open-for-ladies kind of guy.

The train ride began smoothly. Rain poured down as they passed through the beautiful country side, but it was such a gently rain that no one minded. Hermoine leaned against the window. The steady droning of the wheels beneath them and the rhythmic thumping made her feel sleepy. It was so peaceful right now. She thought a nap was in order.

Hermoine sat up straight when she heard Malfoy's voice. She had hoped, in the very back of her mind, that he would not be returning, in light of his father's alleged involvement with the Death Eaters. She knew that it was only a fool's hope. Malfoy not coming to school would only confound the speculations about his father. Besides, he was a useful spy to them.

Hermoine strained to hear what Malfoy was saying.

"You're new," he observed casually. "Where do you come from?" Hermoine felt her jaw fall open. He was being nice to someone? Who was the poor dupe who was getting pulled in this time?

"Go away," said a familiar voice. 

"I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced," Malfoy said smoothly, a hint of contempt seeping into his voice. 

"I am none of you concern," replied the voice haughtily. 

"A foreigner? So you think you're better then us?"

"Better?" she asked with exactly as much attitude as Malfoy laid out. "You shouldn't have to ask who your superiors are, Malfoy." Hermoine's breath caught in her throat. Something felt inexplicably wrong about this. She wished that Harry and Ron were here to hear it, but the two of them seemed to missing at the moment.

Malfoy seemed to be sputtering rage. 

"You prick." The girl laughed. 

"Watch your step, Malfoy. You are treading on very dangerous ground. You will not like me when I'm angry."

"I don't like you now."

"All the better," she replied with another laugh. "Now get lost before you lose yourself."

Malfoy came storming through the car Hermoine was in. Crabe and Goyle ran after him like obedient puppies. Hermoine stood, and went into the car they had come from. She wanted to find out who had made Malfoy so mad. Maybe she could teach Hermoine some of her tricks.

She cam face to face with the girl they had met before. The girl gave her a smile.

"Hi, um, Hermoine, right?" Hermoine nodded. 

"How did you-?" 

"Ron came to talk to me earlier. He told me about you, and warned me about Malfoy." She sat back down, and motioned to the empty seats around her. Hermoine smiled, and sat down. She was glad there was nothing sinister in the girl's knowledge. 

"I'm Patrice," she added, as she rummaged through her bag. She came up with two chocolate bars. "Mars bar?" she offered. Hermoine nodded. This girl was at least partially from a muggle background.

Hermoine took a bite into the bar tentatively. Her parents rarely let her touch any kind of candy, and the only candy around Hogwarts was wizard made. It was a rare moment indeed that Hermoine got to eat normal candy and savor being a normal teen for just an instant.

"What's Hogwarts like?" Patrice asked. "I feel like a first year all over again, but I want to be more prepared this time."

"It's a great school, and most of the kids are great. You'll meet some of the best friends you'll ever have here. And," she added quietly, "you might meet an enemy or two." Patrice frowned, and became serious. She bright blue eyes flashed, and for a moment Hermoine felt like she was staring into a deep lake. A deep lake that radiated power.

"Our destinies are forged by those around us," Patrice said softly. "I fear. . . ." she let the idea die, and Hermoine stared at the new girl in wonder. A chill ran through her spine. 

"How are you sorted into your houses?" Patrice asked brightly. Hermoine forced a smile, glad that the conversation had led away from dark things.

"A Sorting Hat," Hermoine replied. Patrice looked confused. 

"A HAT?" Patrice repeated. "A hat?"

"A hat." Hermoine laughed. "You'll see, it really is amazing. The hat sings." Patrice gave her an incredulous look.

"You aren't playing me for a fool?"

"No. I promise you that."

They arrived at the station about an hour later. Hermoine had enjoyed her talk with Patrice. She seemed to be a nice girl. Hermoine still had an eery feeling, but it wasn't directed at the girl she was helping. It was directed at the school. Hermoine bid goodbye to Patrice as she moved to join the first years. She then joined Ron and Harry.

"Where've you been?" asked Ron, sounding annoyed. Harry smiled and shook his head. 

"Ignore him, Hermoine." He looked over at Hagrid, and gave the huge man a single nod of his head. Hagrid grinned, then led away the frightened first years and Patrice.

"Come on," Hermoine said to her two friends, "let's get rid of our stuff so that we don't miss the Sorting." 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: The New Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher

  
  


Hermoine took her seat next to Harry at the Gryffindor table. Harry looked uncomfortable. Some of the other students, Gryffindors among them, snuck glances at him. Some were filled with sympathy, others filled with scorn. It was obvious that none of the students forgot about Cedric's death. Harry had never become used to the stares of the others. It was so much worse now. Hermoine wanted to help her friend, but she couldn't. She didn't know how.

A hush descended on the room as the professors came in. Hermoine wondered who would be the newest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Ever since they had arrived at Hogwarts, no teacher had filled the Defense Against the Dark Arts position for more then a year. It was a joke to most of the students. Hermoine was starting to think that the position was cursed. 

Dumbledore, his face looking even more worn then the last year, stood. 

"Hagrid," he called, "send in the new students." There was a buzz in the room, though it was quickly silenced by Professor McGonagal's stern gaze. Hermoine knew that they had expect Dumbledore to say "send in the first years," as he always did. Evidently, no one had noticed Patrice on the train but them and Malfoy.

The first years slowly came in, awe on their young faces. Only Patrice, standing at the back of the group, looked confident. The others trembled, fear and excitement mingling on the young faces. Hermoine barely remembered what it was like to be that young, that naive. . . that happy. She missed being carefree, when the biggest mystery was solved in under an hour's work. She wished she could go back to a time when she knew all the answers.

The new students came to a stop before the old, tattered hat. Most looked over the hat, staring up expectantly at Dumbledore. He smiled patiently, and many older students grinned. The hat began to wiggle. It opened what Hermoine considered to be it's eyes, and looked around at the students. Finally, the enchanted hat began to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But pretty soon you'll find,

There's not any Hat like me

Unless, I've lost my mind.

Now step up here before me,

Don't be afraid to know,

To let me see you heart.

And find where you should go.

To Gryffindor, the proud and strong

To Hufflepuff, the loyal and bright

To Slytherinth, cunning and filled with might

Or to Ravenclaw, the smart and true

Let me see where you belong,

No choice is wrong.

  
  


Hermoine grinned. She loved listening to the Hat. The thing had the whole year to make up a song. She kind of pitied it, knowing it only had a brief moment every year when it was important to people. The rest of the time, the Hat sat in Dumbledore's office, virtually forgotten.

The first name was called out.

"Serena Kortan." The nervous young girl climbed up onto the stool, and placed the hat on her head. The Hat grinned. 

"Hufflepuff!" he cried out. A happy shout rang from the Hufflepuff table. The little girl ran over, into the arms of a second or third year who must have been her big sister. 

"Jordan Tylar."

The Hat sat gently on his head, seeming to think.

"Ravenclaw," he announced. A cheer rang from the Ravenclaw table.

"Cedric Dion!"

A hush fell over the room as the little boy climbed onto the stool. The name of Cedric brought back a deep pain to many students. The boy looked decidedly uncomfortable with all eyes on him.

"Gryffindor," the Hat announced quietly. The boy beamed, and a cheer went up. Hermoine was surprised to find tears in her eyes. She hadn't known Cedric well at all, but thinking about him still brought pain.

Hermoine tuned out for a while, lost in her own thoughts. She cheered automatically when Harry began to cheer, just so she wouldn't look stuck up. Dumbledore stood up to address them again. Hermoine perked up. She realized that Patrice still stood next to Hagrid. Patrice hadn't yet been sorted.

"Many unusual things will happen this year," Dumbledore told them. "There will be more restrictions on students, with higher penalties. Any student caught doing anything prohibited will be punished severely. Teachers, you'll find, will be a little busier, classes a little longer. There will be no social functions if House points fall or remain below fifty. Matches of Quidditch will only count at the end, not until then, so do not rely on that to save your house." The students stared in horror. Hermoine was very surprised by Dumbledore's strict announcement. His tone brightened. "We also have a new student transferring from one of our North American counterparts." He waved his hand in Patrice's direction. "Ms. Patrice Esotich."

She flushed, and stepped up to the Sorting Hat. The Great Hall filled with dubious whispers. Slowly, Patrice put the old Hat on her head. The Hat looked to be in turmoil. Hermoine wondered what it was saying as it mumbled to Patrice. She simply smiled tentatively at the crowd. The Hat finally made it's triumphant announcement.

"Gryffindor." Hermoine let out an exuberant clap. Something felt strange again, though. She looked around, saw nothing, so decided to ignore the feeling.

Patrice took a seat near Hermoine. She was still blushing furiously.

"Welcome to Gryffindor," Hermoine whispered. The shy girl grinned, acting more like a first year. "It's okay, Patrice. You can calm down," Hermoine added. "You confused people, but it's alright now."

"Thanks, Hermoine."

The door came open. Everyone turned to look. A young woman stood in the doorway, looking disheveled. She wore the same robes as the teachers, but she looked barely eighteen. Her flaming red hair stuck out at odd places from her bun. She was tall and gangly. It was easy to tell that she was thin even under her robes. She wore heavy purple eye shadow and very obvious blush. She looked like a teen who had a run in with a makeup bent on destroying her. She grinned at the students, and waved to three first years at the Slytherinth table. Even the older Slytherinths were disturbed by her odd manner. She couldn't be a teacher, could she?

"Ah, Mrs. Coeur, so nice of you to join us." The woman bowed her head to Dumbledore. 

"I had some. . . . difficulties." She swept her gaze across the room. Hermoine stifled a gasp. Her eyes seemed to have no end to their depth. Magic seemed to sparkle out of her, without the use of her wand. It was an odd feeling. The feeling of foreboding returned. Hermoine felt the rock of worry come back to her stomach. She sensed that the woman was incredibly dangerous.

"This is just positively cozy," Mrs. Coeur exclaimed. She had a strange accent that Hermoine couldn't quite place, a strange lilt in her voice."Excuse me, Headmaster, but I must see to the, erm, mess, I left in your office." With that, she was gone again. The other students began whispering in excitement and bewilderment.

Hermoine looked at Harry and Ron. Ron looked like he didn't know what to think.

"Every year," sighed Ron, "they get just a little loopier." Harry laughed. Hermoine just shook her head.

"And every year," she thought with a shudder, "we get ourselves into deeper trouble."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: When Darkness Descends

  
  
  
  


Hermoine lead Patrice up to the girl's dorm. She was surprised to see that her trunk was next to Patrice's trunk. Hermoine frowned. Someone had moved her things. Patrice seemed to be over her initial shock. She sat down on her own bunk, calmly taking in her surroundings. She opened the window.

"Athena!" she called out softly.

Hermoine heard the rustling of feathers. A beautiful snow white owl swooped in. She looked very much like Hedwig, except for the three brown feathers that stuck out of the owl's head like hair. Hermoine began to wonder immediotly if the owl was an Animagus. 

The owl perched lightly on Patrice's arm. 

"How are you, girl?" Patrice cooed. The owl hooted, ruffling her feathers indignantly. Patrice giggled.

"I know, it's not home. You'll have to get used to it for a while, though." The owl crocked it's head toward Hermoine. She fluttered onto Hermoine's shoulder, her wide eyes staring into Hermoine's eyes.

"Whoooo," she hooted. She returned to Patrice's outstretched hand.

Hermoine gently stroked the owl's soft feathers.

"She's beautiful," Hermoine whispered. Patrice smiled. 

"Athena's been mine since I first got my wand. She's a dear."

"Are you going to take her down to the owlry?" Patrice shook her head.

"Athena won't bother you, Hermoine. She lives outdoors most of the time anyway." She grinned. "Athena's a wild bread owl, not a tame shadow like those in the owlries." Athena bobbed her head, as if agreeing with Patrice. 

"A wild owl? And she still takes messages?"

"Only for me." Patrice made an odd, guttural clicking noise. The owl fluttered onto the chest, and sat patiently. "To mom." Patrice tied a little parcel around it's leg. The owl lifted off, and flew out the window.

Hermoine marveled at the girl who stood before her.

"You've trained a wild owl?" Patrice grinned again. 

"It's not as hard as all that, especially when the owl did the choosing." Hermoine blinked back her surprise. She hadn't even known such a thing were possible. She hated not knowing things. She resolved to do more reading, more studying, to find out more about owls choosing people.

"Hermoine, I'm beat. I'm going to sleep. I'll see you in the morning." Hermoine nodded. She pulled the window shut, taking one last look at the owl as it disappeared into the clouds.

  
  
  
  


********

  
  


The young Slytherinth boy looked around nervously. He was a third year. He didn't want any of the older students catching him out and about, but he needed to meet with his supervisor.

The hall was dark and quiet. Not even Peeves was about. This hall was not patrolled, by order of Dumbledore himself, between the hours of four and six in the morning.

"You're late," said a cold voice. He jumped at the sound.

"I'm sorry, Milady," he replied nervously. The witch waved her hand impatiently. 

"You've scouted? Are there any of us in you dorms?" The young by shook his head.

"No. If there are, they've shielded themselves." He frowned. "The others, I've talked to them. There is rumour of one within the weak Hufflepuffs, and another in the Ravenclaws."

"The Gryffindor scout has told me she suspects at least three of them."

"Please don't tell me Potter is. . . ."

"No. He has many talents, but this is not one of them."

"Good. I'm sick of hearing that guy's name."

"Might I remind you that if we fail our part. . . ."

"I know, Milady," he replied haughtily. "I know the stakes. Our lord will no be displeased. I promise you."

"Don't promise me anything. I have no use for your word. I need deeds. Now get yourself gone. The sun will soon rise." 

The young boy bowed deeply. He hated bowing to this girl. It would not be so bad if he could penetrate through her spells, and see her face, but he could not. For all he knew, "Milady" was a student. He shuddered. If she was a Gryffindor, he'd lose his mind. Gryffindor's had been given too much glory. It was time for the Slytherinths to take back the house cup, that which was rightfully theirs. He would show them all. They would take back everything which was rightfully theirs, despite Potter.

*********

  
  


Athena landed gracefully in the trees just beyond the Forbidden forest. The woman smiled at her, extending a gloved hand toward her.

"Ah, good Athena, thank you." She untied the message. Athena hooted softly to her mistress's mother. Something was wrong here. Her wing tips bristled. "Give my daughter this," the woman continued, tying the small letter case to Athena's legs. 

Athena fluttered back, observing the woman.

"Please, Athena," the woman whispered. "She's in danger." Athena bobbed her head, letting this woman know she understood. Athena took wing, but the odd feeling did not leave her. She decided to go to her master's father. He would be able to tell if there was a problem. The owl flew off, not toward Hogwarts, but to Hogsmeade. She would not risk Patrice's life. Not now. They needed her.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Malfoy's Promise

  
  
  
  


Hermoine sat next to Harry at breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning. He was gibbering to Ron about Quiddich. Hermoine sighed. She enjoyed watching it, but all the boys seemed absolutely obsessed with Quiddich. The game was popular, and spots on the team were highly coveted. Hermoine had no talent for it. She had never been very big on sports of any kind.

"Who's the Captain, now that Wood's gone?" asked Hermoine, peering over at Harry.

"Alicia," he replied. He grinned. "Tryouts for the Keeper position happen on Saturday. You interested."

Ron snorted. "Hermoine? Playing sports?" Hermoine gave Ron a deep glare.

"And why not? Viktor taught my a lot about Quidditch."

"Yes, but can you do it?" Hermoine didn't dignify him with an answer.

She saw Patrice sitting next to a first year. Patrice looked lonely. Hermoine felt sorry for her. She had started off with no friends either. She went and sat next to the transfer student.

"Hi, Hermoine," Patrice said happily. Hermoine smiled.

"How was your first night here?"

"Fine, I guess. I feel kind of home sick though. . . . I miss my friends back at Totia." The blond girl heaved a sigh. "But it's not so bad. . . ." 

Patrice pushed around the scrambled eggs on her plate. 

"When do we get our time tables?" she asked. At that moment, the room filled with owls. Hermoine smiled.

"Now," she replied. An owl dropped her time table in her lap and took off again. A grey owl dropped another sheet of parchment in Patrice's lab.

Hermoine read over her time sheet. 

"I have. . . ." she grimaced. "Potions first. You?"

"Potions," replied Patrice. Hermoine wasn't too surprised. They all had to take Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms and Transfigurations. Usually, people remained with their own houses, though it was possible that someone could be with another house if no one else took the course. In her Ancient Runes class last year, only she and Dean Thomas had taken it, so they were with the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs.

Hermoine did a quick check of her time table. Out of curiousity, she peered over to look at Patrice's time table. She felt her mouth drop open. They had the exact same time table!

"What?" asked Patrice. Hermoine showed her the time table. Patrice grinned. 

"Cool! So then you can help me with finding each class." Hermoine had half expected her to ask for help with homework.

"Sure. . ." replied Hermoine. "I'll show you to Potions as soon as breakfast is done."

  
  


*********

  
  


Patrice accompanied Ron, Harry and Hermoine to Potions class. She seemed to be easily confused by the corridors.

"I have no sense of direction," Patrice sighed. "I'll be getting lost for weeks!"

"You can always ask me for help," said Ron, his voice sounding very dreamy. Hermoine fought the urge to kick him. Why was he being such a -? She couldn't finish the thought. She wasn't sure what he was being. She just knew that it wasn't the normal Ron.

The tables each had two chairs at them, a place for a cauldron at the edges of the tables. Patrice grinned as if Potions was her favourite class. She took a seat next to Hermoine, right behind Ron and Harry. Soon, the Slytherinths began to come in. Patrice's face fell immediotly when she saw Malfoy and his goons. Hermoine couldn't say she blamed her.

Snape arrived shortly after Malfoy. His face was set once again in a deep scowl. Hermoine had only ever seen that man scowling, sneering or gloating. She had yet to see a happy look on his face. When the late bell rang, Snape glared out at all of them, his gaze resting on Patrice for a moment. For a brief moment, Hermoine thought that she saw a glimpse of fear in his eyes. It quickly passed, and Snape turned his attention to Neville.

"I trust you aren't going to cause an explosion this year." Neville turned bright red. The Slytherinths snickered. 

Snape stood up at the top of the class.

"I hope you have been doing your homework over the summer. You are no longer juniors who will be given slack. You are senior now. I expect no more fooling around," this remark was directed at Harry and Ron, "or any catastrophes," he glared pointedly at Neville. "You will all be quiet and do as I say, or you will quickly find you may have to repeat my class. And trust me, you don't want to do that." Hermoine shuddered self-consciously. She glanced over at Patrice. Patrice looked horrified, though she was obviously trying to mask it.

Snape looked in their direction again. 

"What's in a Drought of Dispelling?" he asked. Immediotly, people began to turn away. Malfoy looked puzzled, as if he could not remember. Hermoine thought back to her text books, trying to remember what it was. Slowly, ever so slowly, Patrice's hand went in the air. Everyone turned to look at her.

"Yes, Ms. Esotich?"

"A Drought of Dispelling contains newt blood, the blood of a wizard, Morning Star roots, diced evenly, three skinned caterpillars and you must repeat the incantation used in the spell that is being counteracted as you stir it with your wand. If it is a general Drought of Dispelling, you must add mandrake root, wolfsbane and spider legs." Snape's eye brow twitched. 

"Very good," he said in a tight, controlled voice. Hermoine glanced at Patrice out of the corner of her eye. Neville was staring at her in disbelief, as were many of the others, Gryffindor and Slytherinth alike. Patrice blushed, and pretended that she did not see them. Snape went back to his lesson, but Hermoine was barely able to keep her mind on it. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing up straight.

  
  


*********

As they left the classroom for Charms, Patrice lingered. She was slower at gathering up her cauldron. She needed to hurry, if she wanted to get rid of the bulky thing before Care of Magical Creatures. Ron repeatedly offered to help her, which irked Hermoine greatly. Finally, Ron and Harry hurried off, leaving the two girls alone.

They had just started toward Care of Magical Creatures, when Malfoy met them in the hall. He gave them a self satisfied smile, strutting about as if he owned the place. 

"Having fun, Mudbloods?" he asked. Hermoine scowled, but Patrice remained calm. She simply smiled, a hint of contempt on her face.

"I am no more a Mudblood then you are, Malfoy. Think before you speak. You never know who you are insulting, and if they can," she paused for effect, clenching her fist, "crush you like the bug you are." She gave him a loop sided smile. "Have a nice day," she said in a clearly fake pleasant tone.

Malfoy grabbed the collar of Patrice's robe.

"Never talk to me like that again, you insolent fool," he hissed. Hermoine's eyes went wide in disbelief. Patrice regarded him coolly. 

"If you want my respect, you will earn it, Malfoy. If not, then release me. I have no qualms about dueling, even if it is against the rules." She pulled her collar free from his grasp, and continued on her way as if nothing had happened.

"Mark my words, girl, you will pay. You will never get away with this." Malfoy's cool demeanor had evaporated. He shook his fists at Patrice, his wand clutched tightly in his left hand. Patrice chuckled.

"The boy's all talk," she said, amusement in her voice. "Even if he does do something, I'm not afraid of that loser." Hermoine stared at the other girl in open astonishment. She had no clue what to say.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

  
  


Chapter 5 The Words of the Phoenix

  
  
  
  


Hermoine wondered what odd creature Hagrid would bring in this year. He often brought in dangerous creatures that no one else would dream of bringing. Hermoine had actually come to dread this class last year, worrying about Hagrid's Blast Ended Skwerts. She hoped that he would not unleash something truly horrible.

Patrice was following her reluctantly, looking at a loss as they headed into the grounds. She looked worried.

"What is it?" asked Hermoine. Patrice frowned slightly.

"Why are we out here?"

"Because our lesson's outside. It always is when the weather's good." Hermoine gave Patrice a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. Besides, it can't be half as bad as Potions, can it?" Patrice managed a smile.

"I guess not."

The two of them arrived at Hagrid's empty shack. Hermoine lead Patrice around back. To her dismay, no one was there.

"Hermoine, over here!" She turned at the voice. Harry and Ron trotted toward them. "Hagrid wanted us to wait for you. What took you so long?"

"Malfoy," replied Hermoine. Patrice nodded. 

"He's a pain in the ass, that one," she added, turning a dark look to the school. Hermoine couldn't bring herself to smile. She feared that Malfoy was more then a pain. He could be very dangerous, she was sure of it.

The four of them hurried to class. The Hufflepuffs and the other Gryffindors were gathered around Hagrid's huge form, ooh-ing and aw-ing over something.

"Isn't that the grounds keeper?" hissed Patrice. Alarm passed across her face for a brief moment.

"Yeah. He teaches all the Care of Magical Creatures classes too," replied Hermoine stiffly. Patrice's eyes went wide.

Hagrid grinned.

"Come 'n over!" he called. "Don't yeh worry now." Patrice had gone pale. She took a few tentative steps toward Hagrid and the mass of teens. She let out a gasp of delight.

"A phoenix!" she gasped. 

"Fawkes!" exclaimed Harry, seeing the beautiful, burning bird for the first time. The phoenix flew off of Hagrid's hand. He landed on Harry's shoulder. Harry stroked the underbelly of the phoenix.

"Isn't that hot?" asked Seamus Finnigan. Harry smiled.

"Not at all."

"It will burn anyone it doesn't like," warned Patrice, who had once again backed up. Everyone turned to her. Hagrid looked impressed.

"She's got it," he said in an excited voice. " Come 'ere Fawkes." The phoenix seemed reluctant to leave Harry, but he flew over and landed on Hagrid's huge leather armband.

"Yeh can all come an' try and touch 'im, but tell 'im yeh're name first!"

Ron was the first to get close to the phoenix.

"Hello, Fawkes," he said cautiously. "I'm Ron. May I . .. er .. . touch you?" Fawkes did Ron one better. He fluttered up and sat on Ron's head, making a funny sounding call. The call slowly changed into a song the beauty of which Hermoine had never heard. She felt all her worries disappear in a warm rush.

Hermoine did not try to fight her way through the crowd to see the phoenix. It was absolutely gorgeous, and she did want to touch it, but she did not want to over stimulate the poor bird either. She let the others have a go at it. 

Neville, Patrice and Hermoine were the last three to approach the stunning bird. Neville looked like he might faint dead away as he approached it.

"Hi Fawkes," he croaked. "I- I'm Neville." He reached out his hand slowly. The phoenix left his perch again, and landed on Neville's head. Neville beamed, at the same time looking as though he may pass out any moment. Hermoine smiled. Neville rarely had a good experience in this, or any other, class except Herbology. She was glad that the phoenix had not burned him.

Patrice was next. She had gone very pale.

"Hello Fawkes," she called to the bird. "I'm Patrice. How do you do?" Hermoine stifled a cry. Patrice burst into flames before her eyes. But Patrice was smiling, not at all bothered by the flames around her. Hermoine blinked, and the vision disappeared. Patrice was pushing her forward.

"Hello Fawkes," Hermoine managed, the image of flames dancing in her mind. "I'm Hermoine." She touched the beautiful phoenix. She ran her fingers over the surprisingly soft whorls of flame.

"Hello Hermoine," said a voice in her head. Hermoine's eyes went wide. "Don't be alarmed, dear girl. Trust in your heart. It will lead the way. Watch your dearest friend the closest, or you may lose him."

Hermoine blinked at the magnificent bird. She put her hands down at her side. Fawkes looked at her with his dark eyes. She felt weak and helpless, yet amazingly powerful at the same time. She could not hear the warbling song that Fawkes had been singing. She heard only his words, again and again. "Watch your dearest friend the closest, or you may lose him." 

  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: The Classroom

  
  


They didn't have their Defense Against the Dark Arts class until the next afternoon, as a double period. Hermoine was getting used to having Patrice around. It was actually nice to have another girl to talk to. Even better, Patrice took her school work seriously. She was very much like Hermoine was, just a little different.

Hermoine pushed the door open. It let out a mighty groan. Harry, who was walking next to her, cringed. Hermoine looked back at Ron and Patrice. Ron was flirting heavily with the pretty girl. Hermoine couldn't decide if it was to spite her for going out with Viktor, or if it was something more. She hoped it was for spite.

Hermoine nearly tripped over her own feet as she surveyed the familiar classroom in disbelief. The ancient desks had been removed. The huge stone classroom was completely empty, except for seven different carpet wall hangings all around the room. Four torches lit the room. The fire place was cold and empty. Not even a bookshelf remained. 

"Are we in the right class?" asked Ron, forgetting Patrice's existence for the time being.

"Um," Hermoine started. She stared at the wall hangings.

Neville, Dean and Seamus were suddenly behind them. They, too, were completely awed by the change in the room. Seamus brought out his schedule, checked it over three times, then gave a helpless shrug.

"This IS the right room," he declared. "But. . . ." He lost his words when a chuckle caught him off guard. Everyone turned to see Patrice laughing quietly into her hand.

"I want to know what's so funny," Harry said softly, giving Patrice a hard look. Patrice swallowed a laugh.

"Mrs Coeur is not what I'd call a . . . conventional teacher," revealed Patrice. Hermoine remembered the woman's odd behaviour in the Great Hall right after the Sorting. An odd thought struck her.

"How do you know that, Patrice?"

"She taught me in my first year," replied Patrice with a smile. "She tests all the kids on their first day of class to see where their strengths and weaknesses are. She also puts a slight memory charm on the kids that doesn't wear off until the second weekend of school. You won't remember what really happened to you in there," she gestured vaguely toward the wall hangings, "until she's graded your progress."

"What?" whispered Neville in horror. "A test? Now?"

"Hope you've been studying your incantations," replied Patrice softly. "If you haven't, she'll know." Harry and Ron exchanged frightened glances.

"I bet she's a perfect teacher for preparing for our O.W.L.s," Hermoine suggested cheerfully. The other Gryffindors shot her an angry glance. Patrice, however, looked mildly surprised. 

"You guys haven't done your O.W.Ls yet?" Hermoine gave the new girl a sideways glance.

"Of course not. Everyone takes them in fifth year, when they are fifteen." Patrice's eyes went wide.

"I took them last year," she said, a hint of superiority in her voice.

"Really? How hard were they?" asked Dean, looking mildly interested.

"Not bad at all, but then, I studied every night." The others moaned. Hermoine took it in, and made a mental note.

The rest of the Gryffindors came in, followed by two or three Ravenclaws. Patrice began talking to Neville in hushed tones, apparently trying to reassure him about something. Hermoine watched her carefully. Something nagged at her in her mind. Patrice seemed to know too much. She always had the right answer. She had answered more questions right then Hermoine had in half her classes. It was unnerving.

There was a sudden crashing noise, much like the sound of lightning striking a tree. Hermoine looked around, and saw a figure emerging from the second wall hanging on her right. Someone let out a low "wow" from behind her. Flaming red hair was the first thing to truly become visible as the hanging shimmered like liquid silver.

Mrs. Coeur was suddenly standing in the classroom. The door slammed shut, and Hermoine heard the distinct click of a lock. Coeur's iron gaze swept over the class, resting on Patrice.

"Ah, a familiar face," she gushed. "Good. Put away your books," she said this to a Ravenclaw behind Hermoine. "You won't need them today. Today, there is a test." Harry gave Hermoine an amazed look. He hadn't believed Patrice. 

The class let out a collective groan, but they slid their books to the sides. 

"Good, good," she said. "Now, one at a time, I want you to all line up in front of the hanging I just came out of." She motioned to the hanging, and stepped forward. No one moved. With a little smile, Mrs. Coeur turned her youthful face toward Hermoine, Harry, Ron and Patrice.

"I'll go," Patrice said. 

"Good, my dear Patrice. Hurry along then." Patrice gave Neville a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, then she stepped toward the painting. "See you at supper!" she called to Hermoine. Then she jumped into the hanging. It shimmered, then she was gone. 

Hermoine went up close to inspect the hanging. It depicted a deep, dark wood very much like the Forbidden Forest. Behind a tree, Hermoine thought she saw a girl who looked very much like Patrice. The thought gave her a shudder. She looked up at the new teacher.

"I'll go next."

"Thank you," she replied cheerily. "Good luck then, Miss Granger." Hermoine puzzled over how Coeur had known her name. Then she stuck her hand onto the hanging. with amazing speed, Hermoine was pulled forward into the tapestry, the world around her nothing more then a silver rush.

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

  
  


Chapter 7: The Tryouts

  
  


The week seemed to pass quickly, except for the Defense Against the Dark Arts. Every day they sat it the same desks, taking note after note, memorizing spell after spell. Hermoine was glad, however, that Coeur had only given them one assignment over the weekend. It was relatively simple. They had to find one common spell that had been cast on all of them. 

Hermoine was bent over her books, doing Potions work, when Ron came up behind her.

"Hermoine, will you come and watch the tryouts today?" he asked. Hermoine looked up, surprised.

"Sure," she replied reluctantly. "Why?" Ron flushed.

"I'd like someone to cheer me on," he admitted. Hermoine smiled.

"No problem, Ron." Ron brightened, and returned to his normal colour.

"Thanks, Hermoine," he whispered. He took off toward his dorm. "We'd better get going!" 

Hermoine dropped her books on her bed.

"Patrice?" she called. There was no answer. Shrugging, Hermoine headed back down. Ron was waiting for her. His grin ran from ear to ear now. 

"Come on!" he said impatiently. Hermoine shook her head, and hurried after him.

The Quiddich field was filled with potential Keepers. Hermoine saw Dean and Seamus with their brooms. Neville watched some of the older students practicing, but he shook with fear when someone offered him a broom. Ron ran to Dean. Hermoine followed.

"Come on, Neville," she said gently. "Let's get a seat in the stands. Then no one will think you're here to try out." Neville nodded thankfully.

Alicia called out drills, while the other two Chasers sent the Quaffle flying at the individual who was trying to be Keeper. Most of them possessed a little skill, but as the ball came at them harder they were unable to make the saves. Hermoine was impressed with Ron's playing. He was doing extraordinarily well. He made the first set of cuts. So did two girls and another three boys. 

One of the three girls looked extraordinarily familiar. She looked like Patrice. Hermoine couldn't be sure, but Patrice had the same long blond hair. Ron was staring at her too. Maybe it was Patrice. . . .

The second round of drills was much more difficult, more like a real game. The Beaters were sending Bludgers at the Keeper-wanna-be's, so that they had to dodge and goal tend at the same time. Two of the boys fell, along with the brunette girl. Alicia sent them up into the stands. Hermoine cheered loudly.

"GO RON!" 

The kids in the stands were roaring now, cheering on the three finalists. Alicia brought out a second Quaffle. She pointed her own wand at her throat.

"The object now is to stop both Quaffles and dodge the Bludgers. The finalist who stays the longest without falling or letting a Quaffle in is our new Keeper!" announced Alicia's modified voice. The students erupted into cheers. Alicia blew her whistle, and the biggest of the three finalist started.

Hermoine watched with interest while counting the seconds in her head. The biggest candidate had let in a Quaffle after three minutes of brutal work. He waited down below, watching expectantly. Ron was next.

"Go Ron!" shouted Hermoine. He dodged and saved as well as the other boy. Hermoine held her breath as the three minutes ticked by. Then four minutes, then five. Ron was doing wonderfully! He made it for six minutes, before a Bludger knocked him down. Hermoine screamed excitedly, until she lost her voice.

At last the girl went. At first, she seemed to be nothing spectacular. Then, as the time went on, she picked up her pace. She caught a Quaffle, and threw it at the Bludger that was heading straight for her. The Bludger was deflected. The crowd let out a collective gasp. The girl was hit by the second Bludger from behind. She toppled over, hanging to her broom with one hand. A Quaffle went into the goal. Hermoine looked up at the magical clock. It read 6 minutes and 3 seconds. Ron's read 6 minutes and 2 seconds. 

Hermoine grimaced. Ron was so close. He had come in second. That surely meant that he was out. . . .

"Congratulations," Alicia's voice said. "Since our competitors were so very close, it is our decision that they both practice with us up until our first game. Then the new Keeper will be announced. Well done, Ron, Patrice. Welcome to the team!" Hermoine screamed excitedly, calling out Ron's name. Ron looked pleased with his own efforts. He, Patrice and the other finalist headed back through to the school. 

Hermoine found Harry with Ron and Patrice. All three fifth years looked extraordinary pleased with themselves. 

"Ron," said Patrice, "if you win, I want you to use my broom." She held it up. The name was covered by masking tape. Patrice peeled it away.

"No way," whispered Ron, his eyes going wide. Hermoine peered around him. The broomstick was a Firebolt. Hermoine looked up at Patrice in surprise. 

"Way," replied Patrice with a smile. "I couldn't stand to see those Slytherinth jerks walk off with the Quiddich Cup. Especially since Malfoy's their Seeker. If I'm not on the team, then I want to say I helped to make our victory possible."

"It will make my brothers so jealous!" whispered Ron in a tight voice. Patrice grinned. 

Hermoine suddenly felt the rock of worry come back to her stomach. She was giving Ron a Firebolt? Patrice gave her a smile. Hermoine returned a smile, but her insides had gone cold. Was Patrice crazy, generous, or something more?


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Patrice's Gift

  
  


Hermoine kept her guard up around Patrice constantly now. Something was seriously odd about her. It had been four weeks since the tryouts, and October was well on it's way. Hermoine, much to her grand annoyance, had yet to figure out the common spell placed over them all. She could not see any noticeable changes in any of the others, except Ron, who still tripped over himself to help Patrice. Surely, not everyone had been given medical attention either. . . . Hermoine thought she would go insane trying to figure it out.

Patrice was sitting in the common room. There was a crowd of people around her. She had an easel before her. Hermoine got closer, and saw that Patrice was painting a portrait of Neville. The portrait was extremely lifelike. 

"Ohh, me next!" insisted Ginny.

"No me," insisted a third year. 

"Calm down," replied Patrice. "I have an appointment book. Sign it if you want one. One painting for ten Knuts." Everyone who hadn't already signed rushed over to the book hovering behind Patrice. Neville's picture was beaming. So was Neville. He took his portrait up to the boy's dorm.

Ron was next, followed by Harry. Hermoine watched out of the corner of her eye as she did her Charms homework. Patrice spent at least two hours on each portrait, so it was nearly super time when she finished Harry's portrait.

"Hermoine, come look!" called Ron. "These things are absolutely wicked!" Hermoine gazed at the pictures. Harry's face was set in a small, tentative smile, while Ron wore a huge grin in his portrait. 

"Patrice claims that they are magical," Harry said in a whisper, "but they haven't done anything yet." 

"She says that she's not going to tell us what they do. We have to figure them out for ourselves," added Ron, completely missing the doubt in Harry's voice. "I bet they talk or something."

"Why would you want to talk to yourself?" asked Hermoine haughtily. 

"It could be useful for figuring stuff out," pointed out Harry. 

"Hermoine, could I see you for a sec?" 

Hermoine turned. Patrice was waving her brush at her. Hermoine shrugged, told the two boys to wait for her, and headed over to Patrice. 

"Sure, what's up?"

"I wanted to give you your portrait," replied Patrice. Hermoine's mouth flapped open. She was at a loss for words.

In the portrait, Hermoine was bent over a stack of books, her quill raised above a painted piece of parchment. Her head was up, as if she were copying from the board. Her face was set in a look of frustration. Hermoine examined it. There was no question that she was the one in the painting. Her hair was just right, and managed to look frizzled even on paper. 

"Thanks, Patrice," she said at last, recovering her voice. Even if the picture wasn't magic, Patrice had an amazing talent.

"Yours is active," Patrice told her. "They actually have to sit for 48 hours to become active. I hope you like it."

"It's wonderful. I had no idea you were so talented." Patrice grinned.

Hermoine ruffled through her pockets. She pulled out ten Knuts. Patrice pushed the money away.

"You were the first girl to talk to me, and be nice to me. You've been more then helpful. Forget about paying me."

"Al - alright," replied Hermoine. "Thanks, Patrice." Patrice went red. 

"If you give up on trying to figure it out, let me know, and I'll show you," she promised. "Now hurry up, Ron and Harry are waiting for you. I'll be down when I'm done cleaning up."

Hermoine bid Patrice goodbye. After she had put her portrait up on her bed, she hurried back to Ron and Harry. 

"Hurry up, Hermoine, or we'll miss out on good food." Ron grabbed her arm, and pulled her along faster.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!"

A thought struck Hermoine as she sat down to eat. She thought back, with all her might, to her first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the year. They had been talking with Patrice.

"Mrs Coeur is not what I'd call a . . . conventional teacher," is what she had said in the hall. No, in the classroom. The empty classroom . . . . 

Hermoine nearly shot from her seat. A memory charm! That's what had been cast on all of them! 

"What is it, Hermoine?" asked Ron.

"Nothing," Hermoine lied. "Just had a thought for a good essay." Ron groaned. 

"Is that all you ever think about?"

"No. Sometimes, I think about life, but only when I'm done my homework." She was rewarded with another groan.

Hermoine managed to get all through the supper without exploding. She practically ran up to Ms. Coeur as soon as the meal was over, saying she had a question. Professor McGonagal gave Coeur a good-natured smile, accompanied by an "I told you so" look.

"Come to my office, Hermoine," bid Mrs. Coeur. Hermoine followed, gooseflesh rising on the back of her neck.

The office was very cluttered despite it's size. Drawing apparently ripped from books were hung on the walls. There were books piled all around, leaving only a very small path to walk in.

"I thought you had no use for books," said Hermoine with a smile. Mrs. Coeur smiled.

"So you figured it out, did you? Put it to words then."

"You cast a memory charm on all of us to keep us from remembering what we really do in your classes." 

Hermoine felt like she had been struck by lighting. She realized that she was on the ground. She also realized that she had remembered everything. All the classes, fighting trolls, dark wizards, boggarts and all other manner of creatures.

"I'm genuinely impressed, Hermoine." Mrs. Coeur handed her a pitcher of Butterbeer. "Drink up, and you'll feel better," she added. 

When Hermoine's head had cleared, she looked around the office anew. It was still cluttered, but with very different things. All manner of orbs, charms and trinkets littered the office. There were no books in sight.

"Feeling better?" Hermoine looked up at Mrs. Coeur.

"Yes," she admitted. 

"Good. I must admit, you are the first to break through the memory charm."

"Really?"

"Yes." She hesitated. "If it is all right with you, I want to arrange with Professor Dumbledore a special test for you." Hermoine gave the professor a side ways look.

"Why?"

"Because you are something special," replied Coeur with a shrug. "If you don't want to take it . . . ."

"I do," replied Hermoine hastily. Something told her that this was important.

"Good. I'll let you know of the date as soon as possible. Go on back to your house now, Hermoine." She smiled. "I'll see you in class tomorrow. It should be. . . memorable."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: A Portrait of Disaster

  
  


Hermoine awoke in a fairly good mood. Her favourite class, Defense Against the Dark Arts, was a double period today. She looked over at Patrice's bed. It was empty. Athena, however, was sleeping soundly, perched on the headboard. Crookshanks appeared out of nowhere. Hermoine stroked her beloved cat.

"So, Crookshanks, is she a real owl?" Crookshanks purred contentedly. Hermoine felt better about the owl with Crookshanks's's approval. 

"I've gotta go now. It will be breakfast time soon." Hermoine put her cat on the foot of her bed. As she headed to the bathroom, she passed her portrait. She dropped her clothes on the floor, and stumbled back. 

Her portrait face was now set in a scream. It had changed all right. For the worst.

"What is it?" asked Lavender Brown, coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head. Hermoine pointed at her picture. Lavender let out a little gasp.

"It wasn't like that yesterday," protested Lavender. She ran to where her portrait was hanging. Her portrait, too, looked frightened, but not nearly as much as Hermoine's did.

The two girls headed into the common room. There was quite a commotion. Hermoine found Harry and Ron. Both were pale as sheets.

"What happened?" Hermoine asked.

"The unthinkable," replied Harry softly. He held up a copy of "The Daily Prophet". At first, Hermoine thought there would be something about Sirius. It was much worse.

"The Dementors?" she breathed. A wave of sickness passed over her. The Dementors had rebelled against the Ministry. They had allowed countless Death Eaters free. Hermoine nearly burst into tears.

Harry clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Voldemort's going to send them after me," he whispered. 

"You're safe in the school," protested Hermoine. "Dumbledore won't let anything happen to any of his students."

"There's a huge army of them, Hermoine," replied Harry bitterly. 

"There's a student or teacher for every one of them," Ron put in, his hand resting on Harry's shoulder. "It will be okay."

Hermoine could not keep her mind on her classes that day. It was only in Defense Against the Dark Arts that she snapped out of her trance. Mrs Coeur was looking unusually grim. 

"Today, class, I must do something I hoped I would never have to do." She swept her gaze across all of them. "In this closet is a Boggart. With Mr. Potter's help, in will become a Dementor." Hermoine shuddered . How did she know it would do that? "Today you will all learn how to cast a Patronus Charm."

Hermoine cast a reluctant glance at Harry. He had gone deathly pale. 

"Mrs. Coeur, that spell's not in our books," protested a Ravenclaw. 

"No. I never wanted to have to teach you this, but there is no choice. Everyone, from a first year to a seventh year, must know how the spell works. It may be the only chance they have should the Dementors continue to rage against the wizarding world." 

A deep fear settled in Hermoine's chest before the Boggart-Dementor was even released. Coeur had known something that only Hermoine, Ron, Harry and Professor Lupin should have known. Something about this felt wrong. Very wrong indeed.

  
  


*** ****

  
  


Nothing happened until Hallowe'en. In fact, the others had forgotten about the lessons on the Patronus charm. Only Hermoine and a few older students seemed to remember at all. Harry had no clue. He had become paranoid. Even Quiddich held no distraction for him. The first game was quickly approaching. They were playing against the Hufflepuffs. This had Harry even more paranoid. The only time he had ever lost as Seeker was against the Hufflepuffs.

The decorations in the great hall were as impressive as always. It was a Friday. The first scheduled trip to Hogsmeade was the next day. Hermoine was looking forward to it. She still had a rotten feeling in her stomach. Something was going to happen.

"I got word from Sirius," Harry whispered. "Meet me in the History of Magic class after supper." Hermoine nodded. She hoped it was good news.

They were all sitting down to eat lunch when a horrific explosion rocked the school.

"Prefects, gets the students to their common rooms now!" ordered Dumbledore. Without hesitation, Hermoine, Harry and Patrice hurried after the prefects.

"Where's Ron?" asked Hermoine. 

"He's in the bathroom! He won't know!" Harry started off toward the exit many of the teachers had taken.

"If you go after him, you'll be killed." Patrice grabbed Harry, and dragged him along. "I need you, Harry. Don't be stupid and get us all killed."

Patrice didn't explain herself. When all the students had returned to the common room, she pulled Harry and Hermoine aside.

"You two can both cast the Patronus spell." Harry looked over at Hermoine. His eyes went wide in disbelief.

"When did this happen?" he asked. Hermoine waved him off.

"What does it matter?" Hermoine asked Patrice. She desperately wanted to take off after Ron too. Only Patrice stood in her way. For some reason, Hermoine knew that it was important that she stay here. 

Patrice lowered her voice.

"Ever heard of the combined spell effect?" Hermoine shook her head, furious to not know the answer at such a critical time. "If more then two wizards cast the same spell, their spells can be combined, and the power double exponentially." She looked pointedly at the full common room. "There are roughly eighty people here. All of them know how the Patronus charm works. I need you two to channel the energy into my wand, and I will cast the Combining spell. We might save the teachers." Hermoine looked at Harry. 

"It's worth a shot."

Hermoine jumped up onto a table. She felt odd.

"I need you all to think back to your lesson two weeks ago with Coeur. Remember the work on the Patronus Charm. Picture your happiest memory!"

At her words, each head bowed in concentration. Hermoine raised her want above her head, and with everything in her, every good feeling she had ever had, yelled out "expecto patronum!" Harry copied her. Huge bolts of silver blue light shot out from their wands, wrapping around Patrice. She screamed something unintelligible. The twin bolts fused. The room was filled with the silver-blue light. Hermoine poured out everything she had.

The light snaked, and formed a gigantic dragon. The dragon flew through the walls as if they did not exist. Patrice was the only thing Hermoine could see, draped in a cloak of blue and silver light, before Hermoine passed out.

  
  


He didn't like that there were members of the Phoenix Order within the walls of the school. He had always thought that they should be educated separately. This was the first time he had been glad that they were there. 

The teachers had been hopelessly outnumbered by the Dementors. There were at least six Dementors to a teacher. Everyone was ready to die for the students. Even he was, he , Severus Snape, the most hated of the teachers, was ready to die to save the troublesome and brilliant alike. 

No one had been more surprised then Snape when four gigantic dragons had risen from the castle almost simultaneously. Coeur had done her job. The Patronus Charms formed by the good thoughts of hundreds of children breathed fire of hope down on them all.

The Dementors fell quickly. Even the Dark Wizards fighting at the sides of the Dementors had been afraid. Severus had been afraid. These dragons had awesome powers. They were pure and innocent as a child's prayer, but fiercer then any true dragon. 

Severus surveyed the damage. No one was seriously hurt. Dumbledore had seen to that. Somehow the old man had known all along that the members of the Phoenix order would succeed. He trusted them way too much, the fool. He admired Dumbledore for the same reasons that many loathed him. Dumbledore never backed away from taking a stand. if anyone should have been a Phoenix, it was that man.

"Well done, Severus," said Coeur, coming up behind him. He scowled at the foreign woman. She was still young, but she had managed to steal the job out from under him again. She was pretty enough under her guise of foolish hair and Muggle makeup. She wielded power far beyond his own. 

"I don't think that I helped much. It was all the work of your precious students, Kalina." She grinned.

"How kind of you to say so, Severus." She patted his sore arm in a patronizing manner. "Better get that looked after, eh?" Then she was gone. 

Severus was boiling inside. That woman aggravated him to no end. Her mightier then thou attitude made him want to strike her down.

"Do it," hissed the voice inside him. "Kill her, and be done with it." Severus shook his head. He suddenly felt sick. The voice was back. . . . Could things get any worse?

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 : The Green Monster

  
  


Hermoine had shaken off any attempts to get her to the infirmary. She felt fine, just slightly tired. Harry, too, was tired. At least they had been given the afternoon off. Most of the teachers looked completely worn out, even Snape, who usually did not let any kind of weakness appear on his face. Only Coeur appeared her usually self. She drifted in and out among the student population, whispering to some, talking loudly with others, and occasionally just smiling.

Coeur came to their table. She grinned at Hermoine.

"Well done Patronus Charm," she said, ignoring Harry and Patrice. Ron gave Hermione a sharp look.

"What?" he whispered fiercely. "When did this happen?"

"When you were off being stupid." Hermoine had found out that Ron had gone to the field when he saw a battle transpiring. She hadn't really forgiven him for risking his life so needlessly.

"Let's not get into this again," Harry said in a broken tone. "Please. I'm too tired to listen to a fight."

Hermoine knew how he felt. Patrice was half asleep. She would occasionally lift a fork into her mouth, then she would stare off into nothing again. Hermoine looked over at Harry and Ron. Each boy nodded. Ron turned bright red.

"After supper," he mouthed. Hermoine nodded again. 

Patrice had told Hermoine she planned to hang around her, so that she was able to get the hang of Hogsmeade. However, Sirius had asked to see Hermoine specifically. So, Harry's plan was to have Ron ask Patrice out. If that failed, they'd figure out a new plan. Harry, however, seemed to think there was no need for a back up plan. Hermoine hoped there was. 

It was odd. Hermoine really liked Viktor, but whenever she saw Ron with Patrice , she felt. . . . jealous. Or was it something more? Patrice creped Hermoine out. There was something odd about the Canadian that she just couldn't place. Something that made her very nervous.

Something clicked in her head as she stared at Patrice. She had known that Hermoine and Harry could both cast Patronus spells. She knew what had happened in Coeur's class.

"How long have you known?" Hermoine asked when the two boys were talking about Quiddich. Patrice looked up. 

"About two weeks. You?"

"Nearly a month. Coeur said I figured it out first." Patrice looked surprised.

"You? Did you tell either of them?" Hermoine shook her head.

"This is one thing they need to figure out for themselves." She looked over at her two friends. "I'm really glad that you knew, Patrice, otherwise the professors might still be battling those Dementors."

Patrice smiled. She looked less tired now. She leaned in.

"Are you and Ron an item?" she asked. Hermoine blinked in surprise.

"N-no." Patrice's smile widened.

"Good, I'm glad. I like him, but I didn't want to hurt you. You're my friend."

"If you hurt him, you'll find me at the end of a wand," Hermoine whispered fiercely. She wasn't sure where that came from. Patrice looked startled.

"Of course I won't hurt him. I already told you, I like him. He's cute." Hermoine made herself smile. She hoped it didn't look too forced. 

Warning bells went off in her head. It wasn't Patrice though. Hermoine looked behind her slowly. Coeur was staring at her, and speaking to Dumbledore. Hermoine had never wished harder that she could read lips. There was something funny going on.

  
  


It was well after supper. Ron, Harry and Patrice were all at Quiddich practice. Hermoine had finished all her homework assignments. She had even studied for three hours, but there was only so much work someone could do in a day. She decided to go down and meet her friends as they came back from Quiddich practice. 

The halls were quiet as she walked along. She rounded a corner, and bumped into Harry.

"Where are the others?" asked Hermoine.

"Got me. One minute they were there, the next. . . ." He shrugged. "Maybe Ron's asking her out."

"She'll say yes. She already told me she likes him." Harry grinned. 

"Told you."

"Shut up."

"Ohh, why so touchy, Hermoine? You've got Krum, remember?" He ginned. "Remember Herm-own-inny?" Hermoine glared at him. Sometimes Harry could be such an inconsiderate jerk. Usually, that role was reserved for Ron, but today . . . .

The two of them stared down the hall when they heard soft noises that sounded suspiciously like kissing. Instead of continuing on, they turned toward the sounds. Harry looked over at her. 

"Wouldn't it be great if we caught Malfoy?" he whispered. Hermoine smiled. The prat needed to be taught a lesson, if it was him.

"Oh," came a low voice. Hermoine froze. She spun, and stalked back down the hall. It was Ron! Tears prickled at her eyes. . . . How could he! How dare he! How!

A sudden movement nearby caught Hermoine completely off guard. A huge green snake loomed over her, its tongue flicking out. It hissed in warning. Hermoine screamed, and fell back. Harry was suddenly there beside her. He yelled at the snake in parselmouth. The thing fell back. Harry put his arm around Hermoine. 

"Let's get out of here," he whispered. 

The snake followed them, like a loyal pet. Harry yelled at it again. It rose up again. It took off down another hall.

"Harry, that's where-"

"Ah!" Patrice's scream cut her off. 

"No!" yelled Hermoine. A huge ball of flame erupted in the hall. There was a great rushing noise. Patrice and Ron limped out of the dark corridor. Patrice was much more pale then usually. 

"Are you okay?" asked Harry. There was another scream from another direction.

"What's going on?" cried Ron. Then they heard Lavender's shrill voice.

"Snakes! Help!" Similar cries echoed throughout the entire school. 

The four friends rushed toward the nearest scream. Coeur was there. She had killed the great beast. Lavender was shaking madly.

"Take her to your common room now," ordered the professor. Hermoine put her arm around Lavender, and the five hurried to the common room. 

It was only after Hermoine had seated Lavender when she had an odd thought. Neither she nor Harry, nor Ron, nor Patrice had their wands out. What had killed the snake attacking Patrice?

  
  
  
  



	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Mixed Blessings

  
  


Things began to settle down again the rest of the week. The Hogsmeade visit had been pushed back two weeks, to allow time for the first Quidditch match of the season: Ravenclaw against Gryffindor. Hermoine saw very little of her three friends that week. They all were at the pitch practicing almost constantly. Hermoine hoped that Ron made it over Patrice. As much as she liked Patrice, everything seemed to come easy to her. She was good at everything. Ron was so average, constantly under the shadows of his older brothers. It just wouldn't be fair if he never got to shine at anything.

It was late the Friday night before the match. Hermoine and Patrice were down in the common room. They had just finished Snape's essay about the improper use of cauldrons. Hermoine wasn't usually the competitive type, but when Patrice proposed that they would race to see who could write the fastest essay over three parchment pieces in length, Hermoine just couldn't resist. Surprisingly, both were done at almost the exact same time.

"Well, I guess the only fair way to see who wins is to let Snape decide," Patrice suggested. Hermoine groaned. Snape was the only teacher who gave her marks below her 90 % average. However, he seemed to hate Patrice as much as he hated her.

"Sounds fair," Hermoine replied with a smile. 

Hermoine and Patrice were the only ones in the common room now. Supper had begun.

"Patrice, do you mind if I ask you something," Hermoine began. Patrice smiled. 

"Not at all. Go ahead."

"You told Malfoy you were pure blood. Is that true?" A odd shadow crossed Patrice''s face. Her smile flickered for a moment.

"It's true. I guess you're wondering about the Mars bars, eh?" Hermoine nodded. "It's simple, really. My step father is a muggle. My mother, who was an Auror when she got pregnant with me, traveled all over Europe, trying to stop the Dark Lord. She met a handsome wizard here, and I was the result." Patrice shrugged self-consciously. "I haven't seen my father since I was a baby." 

Hermoine suddenly felt bad for asking.

"I came here to scout out the suburbs of London over Christmas break," Patrice revealed. "My step father got a transfer here. My mom's out fighting You-Know-Who. As much as I loved my old school, I wanted to come to the legendary Hogwarts so I could be close to my fathers." She smiled, but Hermoine could see tears in her eyes. She put a comforting hand on Patrice's shoulder. Patrice looked over at her.

"You won't tell anyone, will you? I don't want to be the subject of rumours."

"I won't," promised Hermoine.

"Thanks. You're a true friend. I wish, I wish I had as good friends as you, that my parents were happily married." She wiped her tears away. "I wish I was you." 

  
  


*****************************************************************************

  
  


There was a lot of excitement in the common room down below. Hermoine went down to see what all the commotion was about. Some people sounded confused. She couldn't make out what they were saying through the thick stone walls. She hadn't slept well last night, and the early morning noise was not helping her mood.

Patrice held something for all of the students to see.

"Pettigew sighted by muggles, mother," she read in a disgusted voice. "Black's sentence to be overturned." Hermoine's heart leapt. On the front page was a muggle-picture of Pettigew, in his human form. 

Hermoine quickly sought out Harry and Ron. Ron through his arms around Hermoine. 

"It's true then?" she whispered.

"It's true," replied Ron. "I got an owl from Percy. He wasn't happy. He wanted me to warn Harry. Of course, he's known for three weeks, and he didn't tell me." Ron's mood was too good for his face to fall. "Bless muggles!"

Most people seemed confused by Harry's grin. They expected him to be terrified. He was elated. Patrice, however, looked fit to destroy something. She came over. Hermoine quickly hid her smile.

"Mark my words, Hermoine, this is not a good thing. Someone doesn't show up after being thought dead for 14 years." Hermoine blinked in surprise. She had a point. Patrice didn't know the whole story, that Harry had saved Pettigew's life, but she had a very valid point. Had Pettigew grown careless sense becoming a human again, or was Voldemort trying to send them a message?

  
  


*************************************************************

  
  


Hermoine was surprised to see Ron out in the stands as she made her way out to the field. Her heart sank. So Patrice had been chosen for the team. 

"Hi Hermoine," he said. He still looked happy. 

"Aren't you mad that Patrice got your place?" Hermoine asked. Ron shook his head. 

"Sirius might be free soon. This doesn't matter. Besides, I'd rather be a Beater. That position will be opening up next year, with Fred and George gone." Hermoine was surprised at the mature outlook he had. Ron grinned at her. "No one knows about Patrice's F-B yet either. Not even Fred and George." Hermoine couldn't help but smile. The Slytherinths were not going to like that one little bit.

The day was perfect for a game of Quidditch. The wind was blowing gently. The sun was partially hidden by clouds. The sun was warm but not too hot. Hermoine could hardly believe it was November. It seemed more like September, except all the leaves were down.

Hermoine was on her feet, cheering, as the Gryffindor team flew out triumphantly. The Ravenclaws came from their own side. 

"Go Gryffindor!" Hermoine yelled. She didn't much like flying, but she loved watching it. she watched, amazed, as Harry dove after something, Cho Chang following him closely. Harry pulled up, and Cho Chang nearly went nose first into the ground. He yelled something at her, which sounded like "Sorry".

Gryffindor was winning 150 points to 50. Harry was diving after the snitch. Cho Chang didn't stand a chance. Things suddenly went horribly wrong above them. A bolt of black lightning, that seemed to suck light from the sky, charged across the sky, heading straight at Harry. He was too intent on the snitch, and didn't see it. The students cried out as one.

There was a horrible cracking sound, and Hermoine's ears rang painfully. She stood, shouting to Harry. He was alright! He held the snitch in his hand, and he was floating silently above the pitch, staring at something. Hermoine felt her stomach drop. Patrice! There were suddenly several teachers on the pitch, tending to her. Hermoine sank down. She was shaking. If that had been Ron . . . . She suddenly threw her arms around Ron, thankful that he hadn't been hit.


	12. Chapter 12

  
  


Chapter 12: Patrice Has Many Faces

  
  


No one was allowed to see Patrice. They were told that she needed rest more then she needed companionship. Hermoine was worried for her friend though. She had been so relieved about Ron that she had forgotten that Patrice had been hurt. So she asked Harry if she could borrow his Invisibility Cloak. 

Hermoine rarely broke the rules, but she made a point of helping her friends when she thought they needed it. So she slipped on the Cloak late at night. Ron let himself in so that she could slip out unnoticed. It was a very useful system

Hermoine went into the sick room, but Patrice wasn't there. Hermoine was baffled by this. She started to leave, when she heard Patrice's voice. Hermoine headed toward it. 

She found Patrice standing in the hall. She looked alright, which was surprising.

"Are you sure you are alright?" asked a woman's voice. The voice was distorted, and Hermoine wasn't even sure if it was a woman's voice.

"I'm fine."

"What possessed you to get in front of a bolt of lightning?" asked the woman. Hermoine could see her now. She was clad in black, and looked about as substantial as a shadow.

"I didn't get in front of it on purpose. It missed it's mark."

"The council has ruled they don't want you risking yourself in that stupid game again. Forfeit the position and give that silly Weasly boy your broom."

"Gladly," Patrice replied honestly. "The practices were becoming distracting. I don't want to lose the target."

"Good. Watch out for yourself."

"I will. Give my regards to my mother."

"As you wish." 

The shadow-woman flickered and then disappeared entirely. Patrice walked back to the sick room, looking the picture of heath. Hermoine didn't dare follow her. She headed back to Gryffindor tower to await morning.

  
  


******************************************************************************************

  
  


Patrice returned to classes on Monday. Hermoine had kept silent about what she had seen. Something was wrong with this whole picture. Millions of questions whirled through her brain every time she saw Patrice. She was having trouble staying focused during their conversation. It hadn't affected her school work, but Hermoine rarely let anything affect that.

The week passed by in a hurry. Friday night was suddenly on them, and the promise of Hogsmeade burned bright in every students' eyes. Patrice came to their table as Hermoine was helping the boys with their Charms work.

"Ron, I have something for you," Patrice said. She presented to him her burned broom stick. "It's still fine. I had Coeur and McGonagal check it out." She ripped the tape off it, revealing that the name Firebolt was still in perfect condition. "I don't want to be Keeper anymore. Not after that game. My insides still hurt." Ron grinned, and wrapped his arms around Patrice. "I told Alicia earlier. She's disappointed, but she agreed that you should have the spot."

A rock had made it's way into Hermoine's stomach again. She remembered the conversation she had heard before. She wondered who Patrice's "target" was. After all, Harry was on the Quidditch team, so that would make watching him easier, not harder.

  
  


*******

  
  


Clouds hung overhead. Hermoine smiled at her friends as she downed the rest of her Butterbeer. Ron stood.

"Patrice, shall we go?" he asked. Patrice smiled. 

"Sure, if they don't mind." Patrice's gaze rested on Hermoine. Hermoine could tell that Patrice suspected that Hermoine was the only one with a problem.

"Go ahead," she replied. "Harry and I will see you later." Ron slipped his arm around Patrice, and Hermoine felt a bubble of jealousy rise with her. 

The two of them headed up toward the Shieking Shack. A black dog met them, and accompanied them up into the hills.

"Sirius," Harry said with a smile. The dog became a man, Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. 

"I hope you're well, Harry," Sirius said with a smile. He swept his long, stringy hair from his face. Sirius was rather gaunt looking. "I heard about the accident at the Quiddich game."

"Was that bolt meant for me?" Harry asked quietly.

"Probably," the older man admitted. "You both need to be careful."

"Why me?" Hermoine asked, feeling surprised.

"Forces are closing in around you. They will take any way they can get to Harry. You stand in the way, Hermoine. Just remember that, and be careful."

"I will. But I'm not about to let anything happen to Harry either." Sirius smiled.

"You're a good friend to him. Thank you. You should get going."

"Here, Sirius," said Harry, handing his a package. Hermoine could smell the food in it. "Take care."

"I hope those charges are lifted soon," Hermoine added.

"Thanks," Sirius grunted, tearing into the food. Hermoine hurried back to Hogsmeade, Harry at her side.

  
  


* * * ********

  
  


Patrice looked at her watch. It was time.

"I've gotta use the washroom," she told Ron. "I'll be back." Ron nodded. 

"I'll be waiting here," he called. Patrice smiled. She headed to the nearest washroom. She locked herself in a stall, and apparated away.

She found him in the Shieking Shack. He smiled.

"Patrice," he whispered. She threw her arms around him.

"Father! I got your owl. What's wrong?"

"Many things, Patrice." Her father lifted up a piece of parchment. It was stained black.

"What happened to that?" she asked, examining it. "It looks like it blew up."

"It did, a Muggle-style letter bomb," her father replied seriously. "This was addressed to you. Athena brought it to me." Patrice blinked at her father. 

"Who sent it, then?"

"Your mother, or someone who looked like your mother." Patrice felt her heart drop.

"It can't be."

"It is. Athena told me so herself."

Patrice felt like crying. She forced her tears back.

"Is she alright?"

"I don't know, Patrice. You need to be careful. Don't trust anyone who is not in our Order." Patrice nodded limply. 

"I won't, father," she whispered. "Thanks for the warning."

"Are you alright?"

"I will be, when this mess is all over."

"I wish you didn't have to do this."

"It doesn't matter what we wish. If I could wish my problems away, I would have long ago. I would have gotten to know you as a child." She smiled sadly at her father. She hardly knew him, but she trusted him more then she did her mother. She wished she could explain her feelings, but she couldn't.

"I should go, father. Good luck."

"You too, Patrice."

  
  
  
  



	13. Chapter 13

  
  


Chapter 13: Hidden Agenda?

  
  
  
  


The Christmas break was there before Hermoine knew it. She felt bad, leaving Harry and Ron alone at school, but Viktor was going to visit. She had to go home. Patrice, too, was going home, which made Hermoine feel better. She didn't like the idea of Ron and Patrice being alone during Christmas break. There were too many opportunities. . . . Hermoine felt herself flush. She scolded herself for thinking such thoughts.

Hermoine's last class of the year was Defense Against the Dark Arts. She was rather glad. She liked Mrs. Coeur. Also, this was the day that Coeur was going to reveal what they had been doing, and was going to remember the memory charm on those who had not broken it yet. It would be interesting.

Hermoine sat, Patrice at her side. They smiled at each other. They each knew the secret. Harry and Ron suddenly arrived, plunking their books on their desks.

"I got a last-minute owl from Mum," Ron said with a grin. "Harry's coming home with me for break, and he can experience a proper wizarding Christmas." Hermoine smiled, glad her friends would not be stuck there alone. She felt a twinge of jealousy. She wondered what odd traditions wizards had when in families. She wished she was going to Ron's rather then home.

Mrs Coeur went through a normal class. Hermoine fought a vampire. She felt drained, but in a good way. Coeur stood at the head of the class room, and instead of pronouncing her usual memory charm spell, she simply said "it'll come to you all." The class seemed to blink in unison for a moment, except those who knew. Then classroom suddenly burst into chatter as the students realized all they had done. Patrice began to chuckle, hiding fits of giggles in her fists.

"Well done, class!" Coeur shouted over the commotion. "See you next year! Miss Granger, I'd like to see you for a moment."

Hermoine approached the odd teacher. 

"Yes Professor?" she asked, watching the others leave. Patrice had her arm around Ron. Hermoine felt her face go red.

"About that test, you remember?"

"Yes, Professor," she replied, smiling. "When may I take it?"

"Right after Christmas vacation, dear girl. Study hard. If you pass this, you don't have to take the O.W.L's."

"If I don't?"

"It won't be held against you, I promise. I doubt that these tests should trouble you. You are a brilliant student, Miss Granger. Have a merry Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Professor Coeur." Hermoine gathered up her books, and waved goodbye to her new favourite teacher.

  
  


********

  
  


Hermoine slept wonderfully in her own bed. It was wonderful to have her own room again, her own bathroom. She could smell bacon cooking. She rolled out of bed, her stomach growling loudly. It was a relief that her meal was being prepared by human hands. She still felt bad about the House Elves, though she had other things to worry about, namely Sirius.

Hermoine put on loose jeans and a tee shirt. She headed down stairs, smelling her mother's herbal tea. She never realized how much she missed having Christmases at home. Her tree was splendid, and she had put the star on top last night when she had returned home.

"You've got post," her father said. He pointed to a rather large pile on the wooden table in the hall where they normally put their post. "Those owls unnerve me slightly, I must admit."

"You get used to them after a while," Hermoine assured her father. She sorted through the post, placing the gifts from Harry, Ron and Hagrid under the tree. She took the magical Christmas cards, complete with moving pictures, to her room, where no one would stumble on to them.

Hermoine told her parents about her accomplishments at school. She realized how different it was to tell them things in person. She got the feeling that they did not understand the importance of what she was saying, but it didn't matter. Her parents praised her as they would done if she had aced exams in a normal school. She had not realized how much she missed when she was away at school.

A knock sounded on the door. Hermoine's mother got up.

"That must be Kevin, the new neighbour, and his step-daughter. I invited them over. I hope you don't mind, Hermoine, dear."

"Not at all mum," she replied. "I think it would be nice to get to know kids in the area again."

"Good."

Hermoine's mother pulled open the door. A man stood at the door. He was probably in his early forties. He was heavy set, with jet black hair that was thinning in the center.

"Kevin, this is my daughter Hermoine."

"Pleased to meet you," Hermoine said, holding out her hand. Kevin shook her hand. He had a very strong grip.

"My daughter's coming. She just insisted on doing her hair. She didn't want to give you the wrong impression." He smiled. His accent was charming, and Hermoine tried to remember who he reminded her off. Hermoine blushed, thinking how grubby she must look in the baggy teeshirt and faded jeans.

Hermoine caught a glimpse of blond hair over the hedges.

"Kevin, let me take your coat." Her mother hung up the man's jacket, and Kevin went in to talk with Hermoine's father.

"Here she is," he called to Hermoine. 

She had to blink a few times to make sure she saw things right. Staring back at her, a huge grin on her face, was Patrice!

"Hi Hermoine!"

"Patrice? What are you doing here?"

"I'm home for Christmas, silly. Kevin's my step-dad."

"You two know each other?" Hermoine turned to her mother. She had forgotten about the adults in the room. She suddenly felt silly.

"Yeah," Patrice replied. "We're friends from school." 

Hermoine's parents and Patrice's stepfather exchanged loaded glances. 

"Do you want to come to my room, Patrice?" Hermoine asked. Patrice smiled.

"Sure, I'd love too," she replied. Hermoine led Patrice up the stairs, a dread settling in her stomach as words Patrice had said to her drifted back. "I wish I was you." Was Patrice trying to become her? Making friends with her friends, taking all the same classes, answering questions like she did, moving in next door, it was all so suspicious. Something about Patrice made Hermoine's hair stand on end.

Patrice flopped on Hermoine's bed, examining her books along her book shelf.

"Big on fantasy?" Patrice asked with a smile. Hermoine blushed.

"I always used to wish magic was real when I was little. When I found out it was, well, I guess I just decided that I would be the best wizard ever."

"Then why didn't you end up a Slytherinth?" Patrice asked. Hermoine shrugged.

"I guess I just got it into my head how much I wanted to be part of the Gryffindors. They have all the admirable qualities that I look for in friends. . . ." Hermoine realized she was spilling her guts. Patrice had that affect on her. Every time Hermoine decided she didn't want to tell Patrice anything she opened up and told her exactly how she felt. It was unnerving.

"How about you?" Hermoine asked, trying to steer the conversation away from her. "How come you ended up a Gryffindor?"

"I guess because I value bravery and truth above power. I've seen first hand what too much power can do to a person." Hermoine opened her mouth to ask her what she meant, but something stopped her. The dread in Patrice's tone was too much. Something told her she didn't want to know. 

Her mother's call jolted her out of her thoughts.

"Tea's ready! Patrice, Hermoine, come down!" Hermoine smiled at Patrice tentatively. Patrice headed down the stairs, looking at everything, as if she were memorizing everything's position. Hermoine suppressed a shudder, and followed silently after the other Hogwarts student. She hoped she was overreacting, but she didn't think so. There was something odd about Patrice. She was going to find out what.

  
  



	14. Chapter 14

  
  


Chapter 14: It's Not You, It's Me.....

  
  


The door bell rang. Hermoine tried to ignore it. She moved the chess piece into position.

"Check, Patrice."

"Well played, Hermoine. Better go get the door."

"Don't touch the board until I get back."

"I won't," Patrice replied with a little laugh. "I'm not a cheater you know."

Hermoine opened the door. She let out a little gasp in disbelief.

"Viktor!" cried Hermoine excitedly. "I thought you weren't going to be here until tomorrow!"

"I vasn't going to," he replied softly. "May I come in, Her-mo-ninny?"

"Of course you can! Sorry, I guess you just through me off." Hermoine stepped aside, and let Viktor in. 

Viktor smiled at her, his eyes meeting hers. Hermoine felt a lump in her throat. She could tell something was wrong.

"What's wrong Viktor? Are your mum and dad alright?"

"Every-vone's fine, Her-mo-ninny," he replied gruffly. He blushed, and started over again. "I have never met any-vone like you, Her-mo-ninny," he told her. Hermoine felt her stomach sink. "The thing is, Her-mo-ninny, that, vell, I am not in love vith you. Not anymore. I-" he stopped, and looked her over. "I have come to say goodbye. And, I vant you to know, it is not anything you did. It is me."

Hermoine blinked stupidly at him for a moment. She wanted to feel angry at him. She couldn't though. 

"I see," she replied emotionlessly. She wondered why she was not more upset. It occurred to her that she must have known this was coming. After all, they were worlds apart.

"I hope ve can still be friends," Viktor continued softly. "I vill write you."

"Sure," she replied distantly, still in her thoughts. "That would be great."

"Goodbye, my Her-mo-ninny." He kissed her on the cheek. Hermoine felt a twinge of anger surface, then it was gone. "You are a good kid, Her-mo-ninny. Don't change."

Viktor wrapped his scarf around his neck with a flourish, and stepped back outside. Hermoine watched numbly as he got into the car with his father. Another man that Hermoine had never seen before was driving. Viktor slid in next to a pretty girl. The girl kissed him, and not in a friendly way. Hermoine felt anger rise up as the car drove away, and the girl snuggled into Viktor. 

Hermoine stepped back, and slammed the door. There were clean dishes in the dish rack. Hermoine grabbed the dry pots and began to slam them about as she threw them into the right cupboards. 

"You okay, Hermoine?" asked a soft voice. Hermoine spun around. Patrice stood there, looking concerned. Hermoine had forgotten all about the other girl.

"I'm fine," she spat, more venom in her voice then she had meant. Hermoine slammed another pot away.

"Don't lie, Hermoine," Patrice replied, taking the pot out of Hermoine's hands. "You're not fine. If you don't talk about it, you might smash your pots to bits." Hermoine let out a bitter laugh. Patrice took hold of her wrist. "Hermoine, snap out of it. The jerk wasn't worth it! Celebrity always gets to people. Forget about that loser!" 

Hermoine dropped her gaze. She could feel tears building in her eyes. She didn't want to cry in front of Patrice, but suddenly, she just couldn't help it.

"Patrice, he was my first love," Hermoine sobbed. She threw her arms around Patrice, and sobbed into her shoulder. Patrice returned the hug.

"It hurts now, but one day you'll be sitting in your house next to your husband, thinking how lucky you are, and you won't even remember Krum."

Hermoine didn't know how long she had been crying for, when Patrice lead her to the couch.

"Listen, I'll get us some tea. Two sugars, right?" Hermoine shook her head.

"One sugar. But we haven't any sugar. Just sweetener. I'll take two of those, though." Patrice smiled, and patted the top of Hermoine's head. 

"It'll be okay, Hermoine."

"I know," Hermoine replied quietly. "But why did he have to move on right away?"

"Because he's a jerk." Hermoine smiled slightly.

"I guess Ron's first impression of him was right then," she murmured to herself. She heard clanging, and sat up. "Patrice? You okay?"

"Fine!" came the reply. "But I could use some help. Where d'you keep your tea?" 

Hermoine stuck her head into the kitchen. Patrice stood in the middle of a pile of pots. One had landed on her head, and she wore it like a hat. Patrice grinned. Hermoine couldn't help but laugh.

"I'll give you a hand. Patrice you are totally helpless in the kitchen!"

"Not totally!" her friend protested. "I managed to boil the water." Hermoine laughed again, and Patrice joined her. The two of them put the pots away, as Patrice told Hermoine about her first breakup. Hermoine found herself laughing harder, and by the end of the day she had completely forgotten about Viktor Krum.


	15. CHapter 15

  
  


Chapter 15: Patrice's Problem

  
  
  
  


Christmas morning arrived. Hermoine tore through her presents from her Hogwarts friends. Ron had sent her six chocolate frogs, which she quickly stashed under her bed, and a framed picture of Crookshanks. His tail swished, the result of the magic photograph. Harry had sent her the "Big Book of Wizarding Legends. . . .from the Phoenix Order to the Zadu-Lan Curse!". There were about forty stories, ranging from twenty to fourty pages. It was fatter then her Potions text book, and that was saying something! Hermoine pushed all her presents under her bed, except Hagrid's fruitcake. This she would throw out. She enjoyed Hagrid, but his cooking was rather. . . iffy for her liking. 

Hermoine headed downstairs. It was still dark, but golden beams of sunlight were starting to chase away the last of the night. Hermoine plugged in the Christmas tree lights, and started the kettle. She prepared the tea, and waited for the screech of the kettle to call her parent downstairs.

She didn't have to wait long. Her parents were eager to start opening gifts. It had been a long time since Hermoine had sat with her parents to open gifts. She had to admit how much she missed being with them. She missed Ron and Harry terribly, but with her parents it was different. She hadn't even been aware of what she was missing.

Hermoine's hand paused over the last parcel. It was big, and square, almost as long as her arm span. The card was addressed to Hermoine in unrecognizable handwriting. The wrapping paper was a beautiful golden colour that caught the rays of sunlight and sparkled like crystals. Hermoine ripped the tape, trying not to tear the gorgeous paper.

It nearly fell out of her hands as Hermoine lifted up the gift. It was a painting, almost perfectly life-like, framed with a golden frame. It was a family portrait. Hermoine stood between her two parents, a shy smile on her face. Her mother and father beamed in the picture. Her father wore a navy blue suit, and her mother a long, sweeping navy blue gown. Hermoine's gown was a soft wine coloured gown with a v-neck. 

Her father lifted the painting out of Hermoine's hands.

"It's absolutely gorgeous," he whispered. "We must get this hung. Who could have done this splendid thing?"

"Patrice!" Hermoine suddenly realized. "Only Patrice has that kind of skill."

"How could she have done such a life-like portrait in only two days?" her mother wondered aloud. Hermoine silently wondered that as well. 

They all took their gifts to their rooms. Hermoine felt suddenly guilty when she realized that she had not given as nice of a gift to Patrice. She had bought her art supplies, four new brushes, some new wizard's paint and a small set of old fashioned water-based paints. Patrice's gift seemed to be much more from the heart.

The telephone rang as Hermoine came down the stairs. She heard her father answer it.

"Oh, that's terrible," her father's voice exclaimed. Hermoine looked up in surprise. She hoped nothing was wrong. "Yes, I'll be right over. No one should be alone today."

Hermoine heard her father shut the door.

"Who was that, mum?" Hermoine asked. Her mother shrugged.

"I hope nothing is wrong with Mr. Tammer next door," her mother added as an afterthought. Mr. Tammer was an elderly man who lived alone. His relatives usually came on the holidays, but Hermoine hadn't seen the car out front.

The door came open. Hermoine gave a gasp. Patrice was being lead in by her father.

"Thank you, Mr. Granger," Patrice said softly. She looked like she had been crying. Hermoine went over to the other girl.

"Are you alright, Patrice?" Hermoine asked. Patrice nodded, but her eyes were filling with tears. Hermoine knew she was not alright.

"Come on up to my room, Patrice," Hermoine coaxed. Patrice nodded, letting her coat drop to the ground.

Hermoine looked Patrice up and down. She shut her bedroom door, and locked it.

"What's wrong, Patrice," Hermoine asked softly.

"My mother-" Patrice began to sob. She put her head on Hermoine's shoulder, and began to wail. "She's missing!" Hermoine held Patrice close. 

"Oh, Patrice, I'm sorry." Patrice continued to sob quietly.

She reached onto her shelf, and pulled off a stuffed rabbit. The ears were loopy, and the fur wasn't fuzzy anymore in some places. Hermoine pressed her beloved toy into her friend's arms.

"Take Mr. Fuzzy Wuzzy," Hermoine urged. "He helped me through my Grandmother dying, and he'll help you get through this. Your mother will be fine." Patrice sniffed. Hermoine handed her friend a tissue.

"Thanks, Hermoine," she croaked. Her voice was still charged with tears. "You have no idea what this means to me."

"Any good friend would stand by you."

"You can't tell the others," Patrice whispered. "Please. I don't want people to talk about me."

"Maybe she'll be found by then," Hermoine replied hopefully. Patrice nodded woodenly.

"I'll be back, Patrice, armed with hot chocolate and my mum's ginger bread cookies. How does that sound?" Patrice smiled tearfully.

"I could use some comfort food right about now," she admitted.

"Okay then. You stay here, and tell Mr Fuzzy Wuzzy all about your problems. It helps, believe me. Then, I'll be back with the comfort food."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: The Test

  
  
  
  


It was business as usual when they returned from the Christmas Break. Hermoine slipped into her routine, studying, and hanging out with Ron, Harry and Patrice. It was half way through February when Mrs. Coeur approached her.

"Tomorrow you will be taking the test," she said, and Hermoine had to grin. She thanked the professor for her help, then she hurried to tell her friends about the test. 

She arrived early, eagerly waiting for Mrs. Coeur to come to her. 

"Miss Granger, good to see you," Mrs. Coeur said with a smile. "Are you ready?"

"Always, Mrs. Coeur," Hermoine replied sincerely.

"Good. Did you bring your wand?"

"Yes."

"Set it aside, and take this one," Mrs. Coeur handed her a plain wooden wand. Now, we begin."

Whatever Hermoine had expected the test to be, it was not what they had done. It was like an exam of what they had learned the year before, but Hermoine was using someone else's wand. It felt queer in her hands, not quite right.

"Well done," Mrs Coeur said. "That is enough for today. We shall complete the test tomorrow, Hermoine." Hermoine left, feeling dejected. She had expected more challenge then that, though she wasn't sure as to why.

She went to the common room. Patrice was sitting a table, bent over a heavy book.

"Hey," Hermoine said, plopping down beside her friend. "Where are Harry and Ron?"

"Dunno," Patrice replied distantly. She turned the page of the book. "They went to visit Hagrid after lunch. Why?" Hermoine looked for the time. 

"I just want to know what kind of mischief those two are up to," Hermoine replied with a shrug. Patrice grinned.

Hermoine did not worry about her friends until neither of them showed up for dinner. Hagrid was sitting with the other professors, talking cheerfully to Mrs. Coeur. Hermoine felt her stomach sink. He looked over at her, and smiled. Hermoine waited until the students had cleared out, then she went to talk to Hagrid.

"Have you seen Harry, Hagrid?" the big man shook his head.

"No, I 'aven't seen um. Why'd ask?"

"Oh, no reason," Hermoine replied quietly. "Just, didn't see where they headed off to after supper." She had a horrible sinking feeling.

Hermoine hurried up to her bedroom. Patrice was still downstairs, talking with some first years. Hermoine opened the window, and looked out. It was too dark to see. Reluctantly, Hermoine reached under her bed, and pulled out her broom. It had once belonged to Viktor, and he had given it to her in the summer. She climbed out the little window, and flew off into the night. She had to find them!

Hermoine scanned the grounds carefully. She prayed that Harry and Ron had not been taken into the Forbidden Forest. She didn't think she had the strength to go into the forest alone.

"Hermoine!" called a voice. Hermoine pulled to a stop, as Patrice flew up beside her.

"Patrice, what are you doing out here? It could be dangerous!"

"I was just about to ask you the same question," Patrice replied. "What's wrong?"

"Harry and Ron weren't at dinner."'

"Really? I thought I saw them." Patrice frowned. "Where do you think they are?" Hermoine shrugged, searching the ground intensely. She saw two people below, standing on the lake shore. She flew toward them at breakneck speed, Patrice hot on her trail.

She jumped off the broomstick, and ran through the sand toward her friends. Ron and Harry were tied to a stake, like witches at a burning, with wood piles all around them. They were gagged, and blindfolded. Hermoine climbed up the shaky wooden pile. She untied their blindfolds and gags.

"Hermoine, it's a trap," Harry whispered. "Run!" Patrice stood below them, a grin on her face. She was changing, ever so slowly, into an older woman. 

"Well done, Mr Potter," she said. "A little slow on the uptake, but well done none the less." Hermoine shoved the broom at Harry.

"Get out of here," she whispered.

"Hermoine and I will hold her off," Ron added, giving her a nod. "Go!"

"But," Harry protested.

"I said GO!" Hermoine drew out her wand, and aimed it at the woman.

"I've seen your spells girl," the woman said with a smile. Hermoine ground her teeth. Her wand went flying out of her hand. Hermoine turned, and saw Patrice standing on the shoreline. Her head spun, as she turned from one to the other.

"What is going on?" cried Ron. 

"Be quiet, Ron," Patrice said, venom seeping into her voice. "It is not you we are after. Leave, and we will let you live."

"I won't leave her," Ron declared, touching Hermoine's hand. "She's my friend."

"As you wish," the woman said, shrugging. She raised her wand, and mumbled an incantation. Hermoine cried out in shock as a huge fireball rolled through the air. Time seemed to slow down. Ron pushed her, sending her tumbling down the wooden stack to the feet of the woman. Ron disappeared in the fire. 

"No!" screamed Hermoine. She ran toward the flame. The woman caught her and held her firmly. "Ron!" She could hear Ron's cries. "Let me GO!" she roared. The woman stumbled back. Hermoine burst into the flames. They parted around her. Hermoine reached Ron. She escaped the fire with him, carrying him on her back.

Ron lay motionless on the ground, the woman and Patrice hung back.

"Ron!" she cried, "Ron, wake up!" He was covered with heavy burns. She heard laughter. The woman was laughing.

"Foolish boy. Now, because he stood by you, he is dying!" Hermoine turned angrily on the woman.

"Monster!" she threw her head back. Lightning jumped out of her hands, and struck the woman.


	17. Chapter 17

  
  


Chapter 17 Truth

  
  
  
  


Hermoine knelt at Ron's side.

"Hermoine?" he whispered hoarsely. She could see pain in his eyes.

"Sh, Ron, don't talk. Dumbledore's on his way. He's got to be. Hang on."

"It hurts," Ron whispered. 

"I know," Hermoine tried to keep back her tears. "Oh Ron. please, don't die." Ron tried to grin, but he winced in pain. 

"Hermoine, I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I am sorry about everything."

"Ron, you can't talk like that!" she cried. Tears welled up in her eyes. He shuddered in pain. "Ron! No!" Tears poured down her face.

Then, the most extraordinary thing happened. Her tears began glowing pearly silver. They touched Ron, and he began to glow. His wounds began to heal, his burns disappearing.

"Ron!" she cried. He sat up. She threw her arms around him, weeping against him. 

"Hermoine!"

Hermoine felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked around in wonder. She was in Mrs Coeur's class room. Dumbledore stood behind her, a soft smile on his lips. Ron looked about, confused. 

"Where are we?" he asked.

"You came here for homework help," Dumbledore told him. "Don't you remember?"

"Sure," Ron replied. "I think I got it, Professor Coeur," he called to her. He left. 

Dazed, Hermoine stood. She looked from Professor Dumbledore, to Mrs Coeur, to Patrice.

"You!" she cried out, running toward Patrice. Dumbledore held out his arm, catching Hermoine as she stumbled. Patrice looked away, but there was a satisfied smile on her face.

"You passed, Miss Granger," Dumbledore told her with a smile. Hermoine looked up at him.

"I passed?" she repeated. "Passed what?"

"It was all a test," Mrs Coeur told her gently. "I've been testing all the students, but you are the only one who has shown herself to be one of us."

"What?" Hermoine's head reeled. 

Patrice handed Hermoine her wand. Hermoine snatched it back.

"Your friends were never in any danger," Dumbledore told her softly, "but we needed you to think that."

"Why, Professor?" Hermoine asked. "Why put me through that?"

"To discern if you truly had all the gifts." Dumbledore turned to Patrice. 

"You did a good job, young one. You even had me fooled." Patrice grinned at the praise. Hermoine shook her head.

"Somebody explain what is going on here!" she cried.

"You are the newest member of the Phoenix Order," Patrice said simply. "Welcome, sister."

Hermoine stared blankly at Patrice.

"I thought that was just a legend," she murmured. She looked to Dumbledore. "Professor, I thought these tests were to replace the O.W.Ls."

"They do, because as a member of the Phoenix order, you are not required to take the O.W.Ls," he smiled. "You didn't notice there was anything wrong with the wand Professor Coeur gave you?" Hermoine shook her head. "It is nothing more then a piece of wood, a muggle-made prop for Hallowe'en, actually." Hermoine blinked.

"But, the spells," she protested.

"The magic came from you. From inside. We always knew you were special Miss Granger, but you are the first muggle-born witch in fifty years to be a Phoenix."

She turned to Patrice.

"What was your roll in all this?" she asked. Patrice grinned.

"I am a Phoenix Daughter, Sub-commander. It's my job to train the new recruits found at this school."

"Then, are you really my age?"

"Sure," Patrice grinned. "I have been training since I was eleven years old." Hermoine stared in disbelief. Her head reeled. 

"Patrice," Mrs. Coeur said, "I think you should take her to your dorm. She looks dead on her feet. Tomorrow, the two of you will come to my office, and we'll make sure everything is set. Goodnight, Hermoine."

  
  
  
  


************ * *

  
  


Hermoine had a headache when she awoke in the morning. Crookshanks rubbed up against her.

"I had a rough day yesterday," she told the cat. "I hope yours was better." The cat purred contentedly. Hermoine glanced at the bed next to hers. Patrice wasn't there. Hermoine wondered if it could have all been a bad dream, but she doubted it.

The book Harry had given to her for Christmas jumped back into her head. She dug it out of her trunk, and flipped to the section on the Phoenix Order. She began to read.

"Members of the Phoenix Order are so by birth," the book said. "A person is not of the Phoenix Order unless they can do three things. Exclusion of one of these means they are not truly of the Phoenix Order. Firstly, they can heal with their tears, much like a real Phoenix does. Their tears are as highly sought after as those of a true Phoenix, as they can even bring a person from the brink of death. 

"Secondly members of the Phoenix Order can cast spells without their wands. These range from the simple to the complex, depending on the power that the Phoenix hold. This is the most common ability that non-Phoenix members may show. A Phoenix, with proper training, can cast any spell they have already learned without the use of their wand. This makes them deadly in combat."

Hermoine shook her head. She remembered healing Ron with her tears, as he lay dying from the blast of the fire. Then, she remembered throwing the woman back, walking through fire, and throwing lightning. She knew that she could do the first two things. Still, that left the third. She flipped through the remainder of the section on using magic without wands.

"Thirdly," she read at last, "all Phoenix members have a unique ability to speak to two animals on a telepathic level. The first is a phoenix. All Phoenix members have the ability to speak to a phoenix. Any Phoenix member watching another Phoenix speaking with the mythical bird will see the other engulfed in flames." Hermoine thought back to their first Magical Creatures class of the year. She understood why she had seen Patrice burst into flame. Patrice must have seen her, too. 

Hermoine went back to reading. 

"The other animal that a Phoenix may communicate with is their familiar. The familiar chooses the wizard or witch, not the other way around. The familiar may come at any time during the wizard's life, but once they are coupled together, their lives become bonded, and the animal will age as the person does. The Phoenix member will also be able to transform into this animal without difficulty, and will learn of the nature of their familiar by happenstance." It went on to list familiars, and what having each familiar meant. 

Hermoine flipped to the section on owl familiars, realizing that Athena was most likely Patrice's familiar. "Owls represent wisdom and magical prowess. They are third least common of all familiars, despite being depicted most often by muggle legends. Those with owl familiars are more powerful then those who have a dragon familiar, but less powerful then those with cat or phoenix familiars." Hermoine shut the book. She'd look on Athena with new eyes now, that was for sure.

Patrice came in, her hair wrapped up in a towel.

"Ready, Hermoine?" she asked, flinging the towel onto her bed. Hermoine took a deep breath.

"Yes," she replied at last, coming to her feet. "I guess I am." Patrice smiled warmly. Hermoine looked away. She just couldn't trust Patrice anymore. Not after the test.

"Ron broke up with me," Patrice told her. Hermoine's eyes snapped to Patrice.

"Why?"

"Because, he and I were not meant to be. He took your side." Hermoine could not help but smile. 

"We've been friends for a long time," she told Patrice.

"That's not it, Hermoine, but if you can't see it, then no amount of talking on my part will show you. Come on, Coeur is waiting."

  
  



	18. Chpater 18

Chapter 18: A New Twist

  
  
  
  


Hermoine felt very alone, though both Mrs Coeur and Patrice were with her. She felt unnerved to be with them, especially Patrice.

"I know it's a tough lump to swallow, Hermoine, but you must try," Patrice said. "Summon your wand to you. You can do it. You've used magic without a wand both in passion and in cold reason. You can do this." Hermoine concentrated on her wand. She lifted her hand, and the door flew open. Snape came in, scowling. Hermoine dropped her hands to her sides.

"What is this?" he demanded, shoving a piece of parchment in Coeur's face. "You intend to be back here again next year? And you want my job?"

"I thought you wanted Defense," she said simply. 

"You-" he caught himself, catching sight of Hermoine and Patrice. His cold, calculating demeanor returned. "If you want war, madam, you shall have it." Hermoine flinched. His calm voice was worse then his angry rants, because she feared he meant to do harm. Snape stalked out of the room.

Patrice looked oddly at Mrs Coeur, and for a moment they seemed very similar.

"What?" Hermoine asked.

"All the professors know this classroom is out of bounds today," Patrice told her. Hermoine crocked her head to the side.

"I don't get it."

"He wanted to see who we were training." Patrice sighed. "Oh well."

Hermoine raised her arms again, and called her wand to her. It slowly rose, and floated to her shakily. It dropped into her outstretched hand. Hermoine could not help but smile. 

"That was great!" Patrice exclaimed. 

"That is one of the most useful things you'll ever be able to do," Mrs Coeur told her. "Most of us are still more powerful with our wands then without them." Hermoine nodded, and stored this away with the rest of her newly found knowledge.

Hermoine was exhausted by the time they let up for the afternoon. Harry and Ron talked about their upcoming match with Slytherin as they ate. Hermoine paid little attention to her two friends. Something was still bothering her. She looked up at Patrice, who gave her a friendly grin. Hermoine smiled back, but it was only a little smile.

"You two seem to be getting along much better," Harry said with a smile. Hermoine turned to her.

"And why shouldn't we?" she asked. "She's my roommate, after all."

"Were you jealous of her when she was going out with Ron?" Harry asked, poking her gently in her ribs. Hermoine squealed and pushed him away. She poked him back, but he didn't react.

"Harry's not ticklish there," Ron piped up, a grin slowly spreading on his face. "He's-" Harry clamped his hand over Ron's mouth. Hermoine burst into giggles. It felt good to laugh.

Hermoine looked over at Patrice. Patrice looked very worried. Hermoine caught her eyes. Patrice just shook her head. She didn't want to talk about it, at least not there. Hermoine suddenly felt bad. She had forgotten about Patrice mother. She tried to remember how long it had been. . . Since Christmas. . . . Poor Patrice.

After supper, Hermoine found an empty class for them to talk in.

"What's wrong Patrice?" Hermoine asked. Patrice looked away. Her voice was charged with tears.

"My mother," she whispered. Hermoine hugged her friend, forgetting about their squabbles. Patrice sobbed into Hermoine's robe as she continued. "She- she's been seen attacking people... They think she's- that she's gone bad." Patrice shook with silent weeping. "But my mother would never do that! Never!" 

"Patrice, I'm sorry," Hermoine whispered. "And all these extra things you've done. . . . You should go home to you step-dad." Patrice blew her nose on a tissue.

"I can't," she murmured. "He thinks that I'm her target. She sent me something already, but he intercepted it. . . . a letter bomb. . . . My mother doesn't even know what those are!"

"Your step-father intercepted it?" Hermoine asked. Patrice shook her head.

"My father did. He thinks my mother, or who ever's controlling her, is after me." Hermoine held the other girl at arm's length.

"Patrice, why would they be after you?"

"To get to him."

"Your father?" she asked, trying to keep sense of all this.

"No. To Harry."

"Harry? Okay, you've officially lost me."

"It doesn't matter. Just know that if my father is drawn out because of me, then Harry will be next."

Hermoine stared at Patrice, her head filled with questions. She opened her mouth to ask Patrice something, but Patrice held her hand up.

"I can't answer any questions Hermoine. You are my friend, and I am glad to have you on my side, but there are some things that are dangerous for you to know. And until you've taken the vows, I cannot tell you any more. I'm sorry, Hermoine, but this is the way it is." Hermoine nodded. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a tissue.

"Here, Patrice." She gave the tissue to her. "Are you going to be alright?"

"As much as I can be," Patrice replied softly. She blew her nose, and wiped the tears from her face. "Go on. Harry and Ron will probably be wondering where you are."

"Are you sure?" 

Patrice waved her hand.

"Go on, Hermoine. I just need to be alone." Hermoine nodded, and she tip-toed out of the room.

  
  
  
  


Head bowed, he tried to keep his shaking under control. The voice whispered his name over and over again.

"Why didn't you tell me it was so bad?" asked a voice. Severus Snape looked up.

"It is none of your concern, foreigner," he replied acidly. "Leave me be!"

"It got to you, didn't it? That's why you came in during training."

"I said leave me, woman!" he snapped. She moved closer. He shot to his feet. The voice cried out for her blood.

"I will not leave you, Severus. You must fight. Do not let them take you. Think of all who have fought to keep you here. The voice has no power over one such as yourself!"

He sank to his knees. The voice roared to kill her. He fought it, with everything he had. He felt the young woman's hand on his shoulder.

"I believe in you," she whispered fiercely. He felt her presence. The voice receded slightly. "Stop it. Do not let the whispers of the Dark Arts claim you. You are a good man, Severus. Father." His eyes snapped up to hers. He then remembered meeting the Auror all those years ago, and he knew the woman before him. With all his might, he forced down the voice, cut it off, and thought of the beautiful Auror who had given him her heart. Then, he passed out into merciful darkness.

  
  



	19. Chapter 19

  
  
  
  


Chapter 19: Family Ties

  
  
  
  


Hermoine heard about it after from Patrice. Professor Snape had fallen ill, and was now fighting for his life. Mrs Coeur would be taking over some of his classes, while Professor Dumbledore took on the rest. Though she despised the man, Hermoine felt sorry for him. Hermoine was slightly dismayed to find that Mrs Coeur would be teaching them. She still had not regained her trust of the teacher. Everyone else, however, was thrilled. 

"Just think," Ron said, skipping exuberantly down the hall, "no more books, or anything! Just good old practical stuff!" Harry nodded. Patrice remained silent and stone faced, her mouth set straight. Hermoine had heard her cry herself to sleep the night before.

They entered Potions. Harry and Ron took their usual places, as did everyone else. Mrs Coeur stood at the front, a grim expression on her face.

"Please turn to page three hundred of your book," she said in a monotonous voice. Hermoine blinked, but did as asked. There was much grumbling, especially from Ron.

"We are going to follow Professor Snape's lesson plan exactly. If any of you have a problem with that, then I suggest you take it up with Professor Dumbledore," she added, narrowing her gaze on Ron. Ron shrank a bit under her bright eyes, and he hastily opened the book.

"Any questions? No? Good. Now. . ."

  
  


Hermoine cleared up her Potions things. Patrice lingered.

"What's up?" she asked Patrice, shoving her ingredients into the cauldron.

"Nothing. I just need to ask Mrs Coeur about something. Don't wait up." Hermoine shrugged. She packed up her things, giving Patrice a curious look, but she said no more. Hermoine shut the door, walked around the corner, and quickly cast a spell she had learned in the summer to focus her hearing into one ear, to make it stronger. It was a very useful tool for eavesdropping.

"Are you alright, Kalina?" Patrice asked. Hermoine frowned. Who was Kalina?

"I'm fine, Patrice. Really, I am. You should go back to your friends. After all, exams are coming up soon." She heard Patrice laugh bitterly.

"Do you really think I care that much? I'm too worried about you, sis." Hermoine's breath caught in her throat. 

"Sis?" she thought. "As in sister?"

"Don't be worried, Patrice. I can handle this."

"But first mom, then your dad. . . ."

"Look, Patrice, I know you're worried, but you don't need to be. I'm your older sister, for goodness sake. You worry about you. Mom would be upset if she thought you weren't trying your best."

"Thank's Kalina."

Hermoine hurried away, and removed the spell. She dropped her cauldron on her floor next to her bed.

"Crookshanks why is it that ever time I get comfortable around Patrice I find out something more about her?" she asked her cat. Crookshanks purred, rubbing up against her.

"I guess you don't know, do you. Still. . . . Do you think she's a good person, Crookshanks?" 

"Purr," was all her cat said. Hermoine smiled. 

"You silly thing. I guess it's my fault for expecting a cat to talk to me." She scratched under Crookshanks's's chin. 

"Hermoine!" called Patrice. "Can you come here?"

"Coming!" Hermoine called back with a sigh.

Hermoine came down the stairs. All was quiet in the common room, which was highly uncommon. 

"Patrice?" she called. "Patrice, what kind of game is this?" She screamed as someone grabbed her from behind. A thick, meaty hand clasped over her mouth. She saw Patrice then, laying unconscious on the ground before a man clad in black. Hermoine fought against her attacker with all she had, but one of them cast a sleeping charm on her. Hermoine felt as if she were falling. She fought with all she had, but soon the darkness claimed her.

  
  


Her head was pounding, and voices swam around her. Patrice opened her eyes, and found it was dark. Hermoine lay unconscious on the floor near her.

"Hermoine!" Patrice whispered, crawling to her fallen friend. "Hermoine, get up!" 

"Mneh?" Hermoine mumbled. "Uhg." Hermoine's eyes slowly opened. "Pat- Patrice? What happened?"

"We were jumped," Patrice replied. "Is anyone out there?"

"I am, my daughter." Patrice felt her insides rise up. She stood, and peered into the darkness. 

Light flared, and Patrice stumbled back in surprise, blinded. 

"Your stupid owl let me find how I might get in." Patrice blinked back the tears. She forced herself to look up at her mother. The familiar face looked at her passively. Patrice reached into her robes. Her wand was gone.

"You didn't really think that I would let you keep that, did you?" her mother asked. 

"Let Hermoine go. She isn't part of this."

"Oh, she has been part of this since the beginning." Her mother gave her a small smile, devoid of any emotions. "She is a Mudblood, and must pay as such."

"You know I can't let you hurt her, or any one else."

"There is not much you can do, Patrice. Without your wand, you are nothing." She waved the wands before them. "Call your bird, girl, and have her fetch your father. I will let you go then." Patrice stood, blinking back the tears.

"Never."

"Oh? So you want to die?"

"My mother would never kill me." Patrice stared in her mother's eyes. She was heartsick to see that there was no spark in her mother's eyes. Her mother had given up.

"Well dear, I'm sorry you think that. I will do as the Dark Lord commands me!"

"Crookshanks," Hermoine mumbled, petting Patrice's robes. The girl was delusional! Patrice was going to need her help getting them out of there alive!

Her mother turned to leave.

"You do not have long to decide, Patrice. I will kill her. Even if you do not bring your father to us, her death will serve the same end." Her mother opened the door. There was a flash of fur and fangs, snarling and hissing. Two animals snatched the wands from her mother's hand. She screamed, holding her hand to her. The cat, Hermoine's wand in its mouth, padded confidently over to Hermoine.

Patrice looked at her friend. Hermoine was smiling deviously.

"Thanks, Crookshanks." She patted her cat on its head, taking the wand. Patrice reached down, and took the wand from the mouth of the dog. Her heart leapt into her throat. She steadied herself, letting her face show nothing. 

"Hermoine, we need to get out of here. I've got the dog, you get your cat." Hermoine nodded. She scooped up her familiar, and the four of them ran past her mother into the corridor.

They hid in a narrow crawl space, huddled on their hands and knees.

"I can apparate here," Patrice whispered to Hermoine. Hermoine's eyes went wide.

"You're underage!"

"Not under the laws we follow. I'll take the dog with me first, then I'll be back for you and your cat." Hermoine nodded curtly, her eyes questioning. "Stay hidden. Don't go anywhere unless you absolutely must, understand?"

"Got it. Go!"

Patrice dropped the dog off in the empty shack.

"I'll be back," she promised the Animagus. He nodded, settling himself down on the floor. 

She brought Hermoine and her cat to the shack. Then, exhausted, she slumped on the floor next to the Animagus. 

"Patrice, where were we?" Hermoine asked, petting her cat.

"I know as well as you do. Your cat, I wager, would know."

"Crookshanks?"Hermoine stared at Patrice as if she had gone daft.

"It hasn't sunk into you yet, has it?" Hermoine's blank face told her she was right. "Crookshanks is your familiar."

"You've lost it."

"No, she's right," said a voice. Hermoine spun, a look of panic painted across her face. 

Sirius Black took his true form.

"Sirius!" Hermoine exclaimed in a worried tone. "How do you know you can trust her?" 

"Sit down, Hermoine. It's time you learned some things."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Hermoine had a head ache. It was enough that she had awakened in a dark room to a strange voice calling her name, yet now she sat with Sirius and Patrice, who looked like old confidantes. Crookshanks was curled in her lap protectively. 

"Patrice, why is it that you always seem to know something I don't?" Patrice smiled, as did Sirius.

"Because knowing things is my job," Patrice replied. She shared a loaded glance with Sirius.

"All right, then," Hermoine huffed. "At least I know something you don't know I know." Patrice blinked at her.

"Come again?"

"Mrs Coeur is your sister." Patrice flushed.

"Yes.... Well, sorta. She's my half sister." 

"Same mother?" Hermoine guessed. Patrice nodded reluctantly, sharing another loaded glance with Sirius.

"I think you should tell her the truth, Patrice. The whole truth." 

"She's not taken the vows!"

"Then she will now," Sirius replied. "I am still a high-ranked Phoenix." He spoke a long string of odd words, and his baggy clothes became ornate robes. He looked regal, despite his tangled hair.

"Kneel, Phoenix Daughter," he commanded. Awed, Hermoine dropped to her knees. "Repeat after me. I swear on my magic and my soul."

"I swear on my magic and my soul," she repeated.

"That I shall never reveal the secrets of the Phoenix Order," he continued. 

"That I shall never reveal the secrets of the Phoenix Order."

"That I shall seek to protect magic and muggle alike."

"That I shall seek to protect magic and muggle alike."

"From the darkness no matter the cost. On my soul, my life, my magic."

"From the darkness no matter the cost. On my soul, my life, my magic."

"Rise, sister Hermoine Granger, Phoenix Order, First Rank." Hermoine felt warm. She looked down. Her school robes had been transformed into long crimson robes that flickered like fire about her feet. She smiled.

"Amazing." The robes wavered, and transformed back into her school robes.

Hermoine looked over at Patrice. Patrice smiled at her.

"Have a seat, Hermoine. This may take a while." Hermoine sat back on an old chair. 

"This is all very complicated," Patrice told her, "but please remember that we don't have a lot of time."

"Alright."

"Good. This all started when we were first years. That's when my power started coming to the surface, and when Mrs Coeur was approached with teaching at Hogwarts. She wasn't able to get away until this year. I came too, because she's my partner."

"Your partner?" Hermoine repeated.

"She and I are of equal rank and power, at least this year we are. Phoenixes operated in pairs when it is possible. So the two of us were send down here.

"But that's not all of it. In my third year, my father began to contact me in secret. Not even the Head of the Phoenix Order knew, and I never said a word. He taught me a lot about what I needed to do to protect the only one who could save us from Voldemort: Harry. Then, everything changed with the events of last year, with thee Tri-Wizard tournament. I was there. I have heard most of what happened. The Head of our Order decided then that more Phoenix members were needed to protect the students, and prepare them for what was to come."

Patrice sighed.

"Harry does not make it easy. He has been fighting protection at every step. Sometimes he does what he must, but other times he leads himself into greater danger. My father observed this, and begged the Head of our Order to let my sister and I watch over Harry and his friends. 

"Now, the dark ones have my mother. She's not a Phoenix, and never knew I was. However, she knows who my father is, and knows she can get to Harry through my father."

"I still don't understand why they could get to Harry through your father," Hermoine told her. "It just doesn't make sense!"

"I am her father," Sirius said. 

  
  



	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

  
  
  
  


Ron met Harry in front of Coeur's office.

"I can't find her anywhere!" Harry huffed. He leaned against the wall. "Ron, we must've searched this place a hundred times. Where could she be?"

"I dunno, Harry," Ron replied softly. "But, Patrice is missing too. . ."

"Is this about that dream you had? The one where Patrice was going to kill us, and Hermoine stopped her?"

"Sort of. Harry, I'm worried. What if something really did happen to her?"

"Nothing has happened all year, Ron."

"My point exactly." Harry scowled at his friend.

"Is something the matter, boys?" asked Mrs. Coeur, sticking her head outside her door.

"No, Professor," they replied in unison.

"Where's Hermoine? Doesn't she usually spend time with you?"

"I don't know, Professor," Ron replied. He gave Harry a helpless look, as if to say, 'you expect me to lie to this woman?'

"You don't know? How long since you saw her last?"

"Since after Potions."

"That was hours ago! Not at dinner?" They shook their heads. "Not your common room? Nowhere?"

She disappeared back into her office, slamming the door. Ron exchanged a look of confusion with Harry. 

They jumped back in surprise when the door flew open. Mrs. Coeur stepped out, her wild hair tamed back in a respectable bun.

"You two boys are coming with me," she said, her wand clutched tightly in her hand. Her fingers were white around the delicate willow. 

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. He gave a small nod, and the two boys fell in behind the quickly moving, angry Professor. Harry had to admit he was apprehensions about her reversal of character.

Professor Dumbledore met them in the hall.

"Professor Coeur, my dear lady, what has got you so upset?"

"The girls are missing," she said simply. "Since after my Potions class." Dumbledore turned his ever-calm face to Harry.

"You and Ron must come with me, Harry. You can visit Fawkes."

"But Professor!"

"No buts, boys. Come along. Kalina, you have my leave to go."

"Thank you Professor." She bowed her head, then took off like a shot. Harry looked at the Headmaster. 

"Yes Mister Potter?"

"What do you think happened to them?"

"I do not know, Mister Potter. But, I believe it would be safer for you and Mister Weasly to wait in my office where you'll be safe. Fawkes will keep a very good eye on you."

"Safer? Where do you think Hermoine is, Professor? Please, tell me."

  
  


An owl swooped in at that moment, landing beside Fawks. The two birds chatted like old friends. Dumbledore turned to them. His face relaxed, and a small smile came to it.

"Just relax boys. I'll be back shortly."

"But-" Dumbledore ignored Harry. He was gone. 

"Great." Harry flopped down into an arm chair. "Geeze, I hope she's okay."

"Harry," Ron whispered, "that's Patrice's owl."

"Patrice has an owl?"

"Yeah. She doesn't keep it in the owlries. It's wild."

"What's its name?"

"Athena, I think," Ron replied. He slowly moved across the room, his hand outstretched. "Athena?" he called. The owl looked up at the sound of her name. Ron came closer. "Athena, where is Patrice?" The owl gave him a glare. She nipped at his fingers. Ron pulled back.

"That hurt." He shook his finger. "What's your problem, Athena?"

  
  


Harry and Ron sat in silence, each staring expectly at the door. Ron was very pale.

"This is all my fualt," he whispered. "Patrice and Hermoine were friends before I started going out with Patrice."

"It's not your fualt. I don't really think Patrice would hurt a fly."

"She tried to kill me."

"It was a dream, Ron."

"Glad to see you guys actually listened for once," said a familiar voice. 

"Hermoine!" Harry jumped out of his seat, but Ron was faster. He swept Hermoine into a big hug. 

"Don't you ever do that to me again," Ron said. Hermoine laughed. 

"I won't."

  
  


Harry gave Hermoine a quick hug. He noticed Patrice talking with Dumbledore. She was crying, and Dumbledore was consoling her.

"What happened to you?" Harry asked.

"Some of Voldemort's henchmen got into the school. They caught Patrice and I. They tried to find you, but you guys had already gone to dinner."

"Is Patrice okay?" Harry asked.

"She will be. In time. Don't ask me any more. If Patrice wants to tell you, she will."

"All right." Harry gave Hermoine a smile. "You sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine."

  
  


Ron looked her over.

"You're a mess. Who rescued you?"

"Sirius."

"What?"

"He bit one of the henchmen's hands, and got our wands back to us."

"Good old Sirius," Harry said with a grin. 

  
  


Dumbledore came over. He looked unusually grim.

"Go on to bed, boys. Mrs Coeur will escort you. Hermoine, if I could have a word?"

"Yes, Proffessor."

"Thank you." Harry cast a reluctant glance over his shoulder as he followed Ron out. Patrice still stood in the doorway, but she had composed herself slightly. She was fumbling around in her pockets for a tissue.

"Here," Harry whispered, handing her one. "I'm glad you two came back all right."

"Thanks," she sniffed, taking the tissue. "Goo' night Harry."

  
  


**************************************************************************************************

  
  


Hermoine waited until the boys had gone. Then she looked up expectantly at Dumbledore.

"They were very worried about you," Dumbledore said.

"Not nearly as much as they should have been. This mess isn't over. They know how to get into the school."

"I know. An oversight on my part. I had not realized that she was an illegal animagus. I have changed the enchantments on the school slightly so that an animagus in animal form must pass through the front doors now, but I must admit I left it open for Sirius's sake. I can no longer afford such liberaties."

"You can do that?" Hermoine whispered, awed.

"It is not as difficult as it may seem, Miss Granger. Now, you have some explaining to do."

"Yes, Proffessor?"

"Why did you not alert any of us that you knew where your familiar was?"

"I didn't know until I heard a strange voice. Crockshanks was calling out to me."

"When did this happen?"

"When I was falling unconscious." He nodded thoughtfully.

  
  


Dumbledore looked up at Patrice.

"Miss Esotich, are you all right?" Patrice gave a wooden nod. "Good. We need you. Are you able to go to classes tomorrow, or should I notify your professors that you are not feeling very well?"

"I will be fine, proffessor. I need to keep busy."

"You know that we must contact the Ministry?"

"I know, professor." Patrice looked down.

"And you are aware that we must report you two were kidnaped?"

"Yes, professor." She began to shift back and forth nervously. Hermoine wondered what had Patrice so worried.

"How would you like to have had escaped?" he asked with a smile. Patrice looked up in surprise.

"Professor?"

"Well, I cannot very well tell them who actually saved you. That would reveal our existance. So, I am afraid I must lie." Patrice looked to Hermoine.

"I don't know professor. Perhaps we. . . we. . . Oh I am not good at this sort of thing."

"I have an idea," Hermoine replied softly. "One of our friends noticed we were not at supper, and told Mrs Coeur. She, in turn, sought you out, and came after us. Using an invisibility cloak, she snuck up on our captors, and while they were not looking she retrieved our wands and apparated us to safety." Hermoine smiled. "It is pretty close to the truth."

"Good one, Hermoine," Patrice said. "I approve."

"Knew you would."

"Then it is settled. Go on to bed girls. I am sure Mrs Coeur would be delighted to take you to your common room, since she is so eagerly listening in." Dumbledore gave a little chuckle as Mrs Coeur came around the corner, her face red. Hermoine smiled, shaking her head. She would never understand professors.

  
  


Hermoine crawled out of bed the next morning with a terrible head ache. She heard commontion down below, coming from the common room. A blond head came up the stairs.

"What's up, Patrice?" she asked sleepily.

"The Daily Prophet got ahold of our story," her friend replied with a shrug. "We are suddenly very popular. And, people are all in a panic."

"Do you think they'll be able to get in here again?"

"No. Not the same way, anyhow." 

"I'm sorry about all this, Patrice, that you were pulled into this mess."

"It happens," Patrice replied with another shrug. "Come on. We've got Potions first." Hermoine sighed. 

"I'm coming, I'm coming. . ."

  
  


Mrs Coeur gave them each a smile as they slid into their desks, early. 

"How's he doing?" Patrice asked softly.

"Better. He should be back soon. In time for exams, anyway." Hermoine groaned inwardly. 

"I'm glad," Patrice whispered with a smile, as Ron and Harry came in.

"Good to see you boys," Mrs Coeur said. "Especially since you were on time today." Harry flushed. Ron cast a helpless look at Hermoine. She smiled, and felt her cheeks go red. 

  
  


Ron stopped Hermoine as they left Care of Magical Creatures at the end of the day.

"Yes Ron?" Hermoine asked. Ron flushed, his freckles disappearing.

"Hermoine, would you, I mean, would you like to go out for Butterbeer, just the two of us?" He was blushing furiously now. His face matched his hair. "You know, when we go into Hogsmeade. I mean, it's not like you have to or anything but I thought it would be, er, nice if you and I, well-"

"Ron, I'd be delighted to go with you." She smiled. He gave her a grin.

"Thanks, Hermoine."

  
  



	21. Chapter 21

  
  


Chapter 21

  
  
  
  


They were finally given the opportunity to go to Hogsmeade. There was less then two weeks left in the school year. Hermoine knew she should have been studying for the final exams, but she wasn't worried. She wanted to spend the time with Ron. She could always study, but she rarely had any alone time with him. Whenever she looked at him Ron would usually end up flushed. Harry had started to tease her, as had Patrice. 

Ron bought their drinks. He wouldn't let Hermoine pay for her own. The two of them sat down at a table together near the back, where they could have some privacy. 

"This is nice," Ron said, looking around. Hermoine smiled.

"I wish there were more opportunities to date," Hermoine sighed softly. Ron looked up at her, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. Hermoine blushed. She hadn't intended to say that out loud.

"Me too," he said, his eyes dancing. Hermoine looked away from his eyes. She rememded herself that there was a lot going on, a lot that could harm Ron. He and Harry had to keep safe. 

Ron's hand reached across the table. He slipped his hand into hers. Hermoine blushed again, her heart trippling in speed. She looked up at him.

"I thought I had lost you when you and Patrice went missing," Ron whispered. "The last time I was that afraid you were petrified and Ginny was missing. . . I realized if I lost you, well, I couldn't take it."

"Ron," she whispered, unsure of what to say. He smiled again, not his usual, silly grin, but a more timid, shy, smile. "I'll always be here for you, Ron." She leaned over and kissed his cheek before she really knew what she was doing. He flushed brighter, and Hermoine looked suddenly away, aware she might have embaressed him. 

Ron squeezed her hand, and she looked up again. By the look in his eyes she knew that she had not embaressed him, that he had no problem with her giving him a kiss. She hadn't felt like this when she had first gone out with Viktor, the trembling, the nervousness, the tingling where she had touched him. . .

  
  


There was a sudden crash outside. Hermoine jumped out of her seat. Darkness hung in the air outside. 

"What's going on?" Ron cried. Hermoine had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Something was terribly wrong.

"I don't know. Where's Harry?"

"I don't know. I think he and Patrice where going somewhere, but I can't remember where."

"Ron we've got to find them. Something's up, I know it."

"Of course something's up!" Ron exclaimed. "It's black outside at noon!"

"Are you coming or not?"

"I'm coming."

  
  


The two of them raced outside. The air was thick, heavy. Hermoine pulled her shirt up, putting it over her mouth and nose. Ron did the same. There was a chance that there was something in the air, and Hermoine did not want to fall victim to it.

"Patrice, Harry! Where are you?" 

  
  


A strange noise filled the air. It came closer, and Hermoine realized it was laughter, deep, frightening laughter.

"He is mine. Mudbloods beware." Hermoine knew without a doubt that the voice was not exactly human.

"Crockshanks," she called out.

"Yes, Hermoine?" came the silent reply.

"Talk to Athena. Find out if Patrice and Harry are all right. Hurry, please!" She waited a moment while searching the area for trouble. She could not see anything. No one was around, which frightened Hermoine to her very core. 

"Athena says that her partener is not answering her calls. Is something wrong?"

"Something is very wrong. Go get Sirius. It is dark in Hogsmeade."

"Please, be care Hermoine!"

"I will be, Crockshanks," she silently assure the cat. 

  
  


Ron had move closer to her. The darkness was all encompassing. Hermoine could not see more then a few meters away. The shops had all disappeared into the darkness.

"Patrice!" Hermoine tried again. "Harry! Harreeeeeee!" Her voice echoed back to her. Hermoine looked over at Ron. "We need to do something!"

"What?" There was panic in his eyes.

"A light spell, maybe?"

"Maybe?"

  
  


Before they could move a force pushed them closer together. Hermoine found she could not lift her hands. It was becoming hard to breathe.

"Hermoine RUN!" screamed a voice. It took her a moment to recognize the voice. It was Patrice. She came running at them from the darkness, her wand in her hand. Harry ran behind her.

"Harry, Ron, you two have got to get out of here," Patrice cried, panting. Hermoine struggled to agree, to nod, but she could not move.

"I'm not leaving her," Ron replied fiercely. Patrice shook her wand.

"Go now." She tapped Hermoine, and Hermoine came free. She drew a breath with a gasp.

"We're not leaving."

"Get out of here now!" Patrice raised her wand, spinning to face the darkness. "If you three stay here, Hermoine's going to die." Hermoine felt suddenly heavy, and she could not lift her legs. She heard Ron and Harry both cast a light spell, and the choking darkness receded slightly. 

"We can help you," Harry said. "The combine spell effect that you taught us about, remember?"

"Fine. If you won't do as I ask. If you are willing to risk Hermoine's life." She paused, and looked at Hermoine. "It is too late anyway. She has been infected." Hermoine crocked her head to the side, not understanding. A pain shot up her spine.

  
  


Patrice held up her wand. "On my count, cast the light spell. We only have this one shot. If we fail. . . Well, we just can't. One. . . Two. . . . Three... NOW!" Patrice began to chant the combining spell as the three of them yelled together. The was a violent explosion of light, and the darkness cleared away, leaving nothing around them but a thick grey mist. Through the mist Hermoine could make out three forms: a dog, a man and a woman.

The man floated above the dog and the woman. His limbs hung limply, like a scarecrow, his head rolling back and forth. Hermoine felt her jaw drop. It was Snape! She saw the woman, her wand held ready to attack, her hair in disarray as she avoid thick strands of black lightning. It was Mrs Coeur. Hermoine knew without doubt that the dog was Sirius.

"Ha ha ha! Think you can stop me, Phoenix?" the inhuman voice asked, thundering from Snape's mouth.

"Harry, Ron, duck!" Hermoine cried as twin lightning bolts shot toward them. Patrice was faster. She waved her wand and the two boys disappeared.

"They'll be safe," she assure Hermoine softly. The world had started to spin. "Hold on, my friend. Just a little longer."

"I feel funny all over," Hermoine whispered, as she sank to the ground. Patrice raised her wand. 

  
  


Hermoine grinned at the colours that swam in front of her eyes. They were so pretty. . . She had never seen so many pretty colours. Purples and pinks, reds, greens and yellows, all swirling and exploding like fireworks around her.

  
  


Something bit Hermoine. Hard. She grabbed her leg, and woke up. Sirius barked at her. She shook her head, feeling woozy still, but aware of her surroundings, of Patrice's frantic shouts. Hermoine pushed up her sleeves and readied her wand. She had no clue what she was going to do, but she was going something.

"Fight it!" Mrs Coeur screamed. 

"I can't," came a faint voice on the wind, Snape's voice. "Leave me." 

  
  


A huge black bubble appeared in the air, hovering over them. It bounced down, capturing Mrs Couer inside. She screamed. Her screams hurt Hermoine's head. She felt someone push her out of the way, then she heard a howl of pain. She looked up, ignoring the pounding in her head. Sirius, Patrice and Mrs Coeur were all captured in the black bubble.

"Let them go!" Hermoine cried. She raised her arm, pointing the wand up at Snape. The voice began to laugh, and Hermoine felt as if her insides were jelly. She held firm.

"Foolish Mudblood! Give in now and your death will be painless." Hermoine looked over at Patrice and Sirius. They were her friends. She could not let them die any more then she could let Harry or Ron die.

  
  


Hermoine shook her head. Snape's featuers began to twist. His skin began to wrinkle and sag. Two black horns poked from his hand. Claws extended from his hands and from his feet. The ugly face grinned at her. Hermoine tried not to tremble. She tried to think of a spell, any spell, that would stop the creature without hurting the professor. She could not.

  
  


The creature floated toward her, his claws extended. Hermoine tried to pull away, but she found she could not move. The clawed hand caressed her cheek, sending a wave of pain through her. Hermoine tried to keep form crying. 

"You are mine, Mudblood. Surrender your body to me," the voice hissed.

"Please," she pleaded. The grip on her cheek tightened. She broke down into sobs. It hurt so much. . .

  
  


Suddenly the pain was gone. Hermoine opened her eyes. Snape was flailing around madly. Hermoine heard herself gasp. One of his hands had returned to normal. The tears! She wiped her eyes, holding her tears in her hands. She whispered a quick incantation, and she slowly rose into the air.

"Get away from me, Mudblood!" the voice screamed shrilly. Hermoine faught the dizziness that threatened to overcome her. She grabbed Snape. The creature within him screamed. Hermoine held on to him, though touching him was painful. She thought of Ron laying near death in her test. The memory brought tears to her eyes. She wiped her tears onto her hand, then touched his forehead. The voice screamed, and thrashed violently. Hermoine was thrown to the ground. She hit her head on the ground. Soon the world spun into darkness.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

  
  


Patrice leaned over her friend. Hermoine was not moving, or even breathing. Kalina knelt next to her. Patrice began to sob. She had cost Hermoine her life. Worse yet, they had lost Snape too. She had failed to stop the Daemon inside Snape from distroying him. She glanced over at Kalina's father. He had returned to normal. Hermoine had driven out the Daemon, but at a terrible cost.

  
  


Patrice tried to use her tears on Hermoine. Nothing happened. She was too far gone. Kalina rose slowly, and she knelt at Snapes side, touching his chest with her tears. He began to breathe, coughing and sputtering, but breathing none the less. Patrice shook her head. She felt her father lick her with his rough tongue. She cried into him, unable to contain her emotions.

  
  


She heard Ron and Harry cry out as Kalina pulled them out of the magical space where Patrice had shoved them. They rushed over to her. Harry burst into tears. Ron screamed.

"You killed her! Hermoine is dead! You killed her!" He threw himself at Snape, knocking the professor down. His fists were flailing wildly as he punched Snape. Her father jumped and knocked Ron off. Ron disolved into sobs, and refused to move. Patrice could hardly stand it.

  
  


A great piercing noise filled the air. Patrice looked up. Fawkes came spiraling down at them. Patrice sniffed, blew her nose, and stood. The pheonix landed gracefully on Hermoine's arm. It crocked its head to Patrice in greeting before exploding into flames. Patrice fell back in surprise. Harry and Ron looked up, too shocked to speak. 

"Hermoine!" Ron cried, trying to get to her. The flames were too hot for him to stand, and he stood back, his arm outstretched, tears streaming down his face. 

  
  


Patrice looked back at Hermoine's body. She could not believe her eyes. Hermoine was standing and smiling! She stroked Fawkes as he pearched on her arm. The flame went out.

"Hermoine?" Ron whispered. Hermoine grinned at him. She whispered something to Fawkes. The pheonix began to sing, wrapping everyone in the comfort of its song. Patrice blinked, and in the space of a second, she was in Dumbledore's study.

  
  


Dumbledore smiled at them.

"You certainly have a knack for getting yourselves into trouble," he said with a smile. Hermoine nodded. She was pale, but otherwise she looked fine. Patrice was astonished.

"How did you do that?" she asked Hermoine. Her friend just shrugged. Fawkes fluttered over to his perch, and he settled down, looking quite tired. Hermoine ran over to Ron, and gave him a hug. Ron looked like he might faint dead away.

"Mrs Coeur, if you could be so kind as to get these children some chocolait."

"As you wish, Headmaster." She bowed out.

  
  


Patrice turned to Snape. He was glaring down at Sirius. Sirius paded over confidently, curling up in Harry's lap. Patrice felt a twinge of jealousy before she remembered that she was not supposed to know who Sirius was.

"Patrice, Hermoine, you two did well, especially for ones so young," Dumbledore told them. He went over to the boys. He whispered an incatation waving his wand over them. "You two will remember nothing of this afternoon after you first noticed the darkness. You will recall only that mister Weasely drank too much butterbeer, and wasn't feeling well, and you returned to your room to sleep it off." Ron and Harry blinked, and Ron suddenly grabbed his stomach, moaning.

"Take care, Mister Weasely, Mister Potter," Dumbledore said cheerfully as the two boys left his office. Harry looked utterly bewildered.

  
  


Dumbledore looked over the four of them.

"Sirius, you may assume your true form now." Sirius let out a happy bark, and in an instant her father stood where there had been a dog a moment before.

"Are you sure that is wise, Professor?" Snape asked, glancing momentarily at Patrice. 

"She has known for a while now, Severus. Do not worry."

  
  


Hermoine looked up at Dumbledore. 

"Professor, I'm confused," Hermoine whispered. "What did I do to Professor Snape? And what was that voice?"

"There was a Daemon inside Professor Snape," Patrice whispered. "It infects all Death Eaters who defect. It drives them mad, until they either kill someone else or kill innocent people: usually muggle-born witches or wizards. Then the Daemon takes over the body of the victim until the Daemon is driven out." Hermoine gave a violent shudder. 

"It could have taken me. . ." she whispered. "I knew if I let it kill me something terrible would happen." She looked down. "So I cast a petrification spell on myself. Then it couldn't kill me."

"A brave move, my girl," Dumbledore said. He patted her head. "You two are banned from classes for the next week. I want you resting."

"But professor!"

"Do not worry about exams. You aren't taking the O.W.Ls, and so you need not take these exams." Hermoine nodded woodenly. Patrice gave an inward sigh of relief. The lessons were tiring, especially Potions class. She had to work much harder then Hermoine had to on her lessons. 

  
  


Kalina came back, giving each girl some chocolait. She eyed Sirius suspiciously, but handed him chocolait too.

"That is all for now, girls. Go and rest. The other students will be back shortly." Hermoine nodded. She looked up at Fawkes, and whispered "Thanks." Patrice gave one last smile to her father, before she followed her friend out.

  
  
  
  


Kalina looked to her father after the girls had left. She was proud of them both. 

"She is a marvel, that Hermoine," Kalina murmured. Her father fixed her with a dark scowl. She just grinned back at him.

"We do have a slight problem," Dumbledore said. Kalina looked up.

"Yes, professor?" she asked. 

"Severus, you have seen much too much of us already. You were sworn before not to interfere, and yet you barged into their training." Her father began to stutter a defence, but Dumbledore held up his hand. His face was set in a sad line. "I'm sorry, Severus. You must take the oath of servitude to the Order. Otherwise. . . ." He shook hs head. "I do not want to have all you memory erased." Severus Snape had an expression Kalina had never before seen on his face. He was afraid.

"You must swear, on your magic and your soul, to never reveal a Pheonix member to any non-Pheonix member." He repeated as Dumbledore swore him into the Order of the Pheonix. Kalina could not help but smile. The only loose end was her mother.

  
  



	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: The Head

  
  


Hermoine yawned and stretched. She felt Crockshank's sandpaper tongue pulling across the soles of her feet.

"Crockshanks, you silly cat." She hugged him close. "I don't need to be groomed."

"Athena's Mistress wants to talk to you," her cat told her, purring loudly. Hermoine nodded, and sat her cat down. 

"Hermoine get up," called a voice. "The O.W.Ls start soon!" It was Lavender, Hermoine realized with a start. 

"Coming," she called down, hurrying to take a quick shower before she met her friends for breakfast. 

  
  


Ron and Harry looked unsually pale at breakfast. Ron just pushed his foot around. Their normal gusto for eating was gone. Hermoine looked around. None of the kids in fifth year were eating much. The O.W.Ls were weighing heavily on everyone's mind. Hermoine tried to make herself look like she wasn't hungry, but she still had not regained all her energy from healing Snape. She felt like there was a hole in her stomach, where food would disapear, never to be seen again. She grinned to herself when she realized how silly she was being.

  
  


Hermoine followed the rest of the fifth years into a special chamber. Much to her surprise, Snape was waiting for them. It was the first she had seen of him since she had driven out the Daemon in him, nearly a month ago.

"This way, please," he said. His voice had returned to normal. "You will be pared off, and a professor will take you to your tests." He looked over them all. His eyes shone like ice. "No talking from here on. Wait silently for your turn, or I will deduct ten points from your house per speaker." He glanced at a piece of paper. His sneer returned."Granger, Esotich, you have the pleasure of being the first to fail." 

  
  


Hermoine grinned at Ron and Harry as she passed. She followed Patrice to where Mrs Coeur awaited them in the darkness. The three of them walked silently to her classroom.

"All right, that's enough solemn business for the day," Couer said with a grin. "You two can relax now." Hermoine sighed with relief. The tension had been giving her a head ache. "You two have to stay out of sight for the day. All fifth years are supposed to be doing their O.W.Ls today."

"I think we should take her to the Centre to get her officially intiated," Patrice said. Hermoine frowned. 

"I thought I was."

"No. You've taken the vow, but there is still lots to do."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Don't worry. It's just paperwork and stuff. And a little ceremony."

"Ceremony?" Hermoine groaned. 

"Then you can take special apparation classes," Patrice baited. Hermoine sighed in resignation.

"All right. Lead on." 

  
  


They led her to Hagrid's hut. He was off teaching a class.

"Why are we here?" Hermoine asked. Patrice grinned. 

"Watch." She raised her hand. "Komaneh," she intoned. The hut flickered, and a huge door opened up in its place. Hermoine forced her mouth closed. 

"I've never seen this before," she said. Patrice gave a little laugh.

"Of course you haven't. Only trained Pheonix members can access this." She glanced at Mrs Coeur. "Since it is impossible to apparate anywhere on the grounds, we had this door put in for the Pheonixes who live on the campus." 

  
  


Hermoine went in the great doors. She felt as if she was being thrown through the air. In an instant it was over, and she was standing in a dark room. She felt someone bumped into her. It was Patrice.

"Sorry," Patrice said. "Get your robes on, and will go above."

"My robes?"

"The fire-like ones." Patrice waved her hand, and her school robes became silky red robes. The bottom of the robes flickered with a magical flame that lit the room. Mrs Couer did the same. Her robes were not quite as bright as Patrices, and the flames on the bottom danced less vividly. Patrice was frowning.

"Kalina, your robes aren't as bright as they were." Mrs Coeur shook her head. 

"They haven't changed. Yours have." She looked over at Hermoine. "Come on, we don't have all day."

"I don't know how," Hermoine admitted, flushing with embaressment. 

"Sure you do. Quiet your mind. You think too much. Just do." Hermoine nodded. 

  
  


They stood in the red glow of the robes. Hermoine wished that she knew how to summon the beautiful robes. She didn't want to stand out. Besides, the room was cold, the floor damp. Her feet felt like blocks of ice. She waited. Her feet were growing warmer. She looked down in surprise. She stood in the red robe. The flame seemed real as it danced along the hemline of her dress. She could feel the warmth from her robes if she put her hand near the dancing flame. Patrice was grinning at her. 

"Let's go Hermoine. You look great."

"Thanks."

  
  


Patrice threw open a large door at the end of the hall. Hermoine squinted, and stepped into the sunlight beyond. She gasped. They were in an office building. Two women, wearing the same fire red robes as Hermoine, sat at a desk.

"Sub-comander Kalina, Sub-comander Patrice, welcome." One of them blinked at Hermoine.

"Who is this? One of your new trainees?" asked the other.

"This is Hermoine Granger. She was already sworn in by a General. We came to make it official," Mrs Coeur said. The two women nodded in unison, and they began scribling.

"Miss Granger, your parents names and occupations, please," said the first. Hermoine told them. They both looked up.

"A muggle-born Pheonix! I never thought I'd see the day," the second whispered to the first. Hermoine remained stone-faced. "You attend Hogwarts?" she added, more loudly.

"Yes," Hermoine replied.

"Year?"

"Fifth."

"House?"

"Gryffindor."

"Any indication as to the nature of your familiar?"

"My cat." Both women's eyes went very wide at this. Hermoine smiled sweetly. She glanced behind the two woman, and saw that one had a frog playing happily on her desk, and the other had a rat. They had the two weakest familiars. 

"Very good," one of them said, her voice more controled, more respectful. "This way, if you please, Miss Granger. You will be introduced formally to our Lord, so that he may confer on you a rank more suited to your powers." Hermoine followed the woman back to a door behind their desks. It was guarded by two gargoyles with glowing red eyes.

"Mars," the woman said. The gargoyles turned away, and the door opened. "Miss Hermoine Granger to see you, sir," she called, pushing Hermoine in the dark room. The door slammed shut behind her, and Hermoine was alone in the dark.

  
  


Hermoine waited silently. She tried to remember what the book had said about the leader of the Pheonix Order. All she could recall was that they had to have a pheonix familiar. There had been no mention of past leaders, either. She tried not to fidget, aware that someone might be watching her. Still, she could not help but be nervous. This man was probably one of the most powerful wizards alive.

  
  


Hermoine saw something glowing in the dark. As the glow got closer, Hermoine realized it was a pheonix. The magnificent brid flew in and landed on her head. It began to sing its enchanting tune. 

"Fawkes?" Hermoine gasped. "Is that you?"

"So we meet again, child. You have begun your training, I see." 

"Miss Granger," said a familiar voice. "Glad to see you here. I was begining to wonder if you would ever sign in as a member." The old man came out of the darkness, a smile of his familiar face. "Fawkes has taken a measure of your power," he added. "With a cat familiar, that brings your rank up to a very respectable level. You are hereby confered the honour of Tenth Rank. With a little time and training, you could become a General one day." Fawkes came and perched on his shoulder. "Go on now. I'm sure that Patrice will get you started with apparation today."

"I'll see you later," Hermoine said with a smile. She bowed low to him, since it seemed only right to confer high respect to him. She watched as Professor Dumbledore, the head of her order, and Headmaster of her school, disappeared into the darkness. 

  
  



	24. Chapter 24

  
  


Chapter 24:

  
  


Harry stretched out his arms. He was stiff from writing the OWLs. 

"Harry, have you seen Hermoine?" Ron called to him. Harry looked up. Ron came charging down the corridor.

"No, I haven't seen her since we all split up to do our tests."

"She promised me that she'd meet me before supper, but the diner bell rang I and can't find her anywhere." Harry felt a chill crawl down his spine.

"Come on, Ron. We've got to tell someone she's missing." A thought struck him. "Have you seen Patrice?"

"No, I haven't."

"Ron, last time they went missing together they were kidnaped by Voldemort's servants." He ignored Ron's violent shudder at Voldemort's name. "Mrs Coeur will go after them."

  
  


They ran to Mrs Coeur's office, but the lights were out. No one was there.

"Mister Potter, Mister Weasely, aren't you two supposed to be at diner?" asked a voice. Harry felt the blood drain from his face. 

"Yes, Professor Snape," he replied, trying to think of a way to avoid the professor.

"That's five points from Gryffindore, and ten if I see you two again."

"Yes, Professor Snape," Harry mumbled.

"Where are your two other friends, Potter? I hope they are in diner, or else that's another five points." A sneer curled up on his face.

"Sir, I, well."

"Out with it Potter."

"We don't know exactly where they are, sir. I haven't seen them since Professor Coeur took them to their tests." Snape's face went white.

"Go to diner, boys. Stay with the other Gryffindores. If I catch either of out of bounds I will deduct fifty points from Gryffidore. Now go."

  
  


Harry followed after Ron. He glanced back at the professor, but Snape was already moving down the hall. His steps were quick.

"Ron, something's up." He glanced back to make sure Snape was gone, then he continued. "He was afraid, Ron. Snape's never afraid."

"We have got to find her, Harry!"

"After diner, Ron, we'll get my cloak."

"Got it. But, can't we go now?"

"No. Snape will have probably told another professor that we were wandering during diner hour. Then we'd be caught for sure."

  
  


Diner seemed to be painfully long. Ron and Harry shot upstairs to his room. Harry flipped his trunk open. He gasped. His things had been rearranged. The old photo album with his parents' pictures was on top, and he always left it on the bottom. 

  
  


Harry pulled his things out, and then he pulled up the fake bottom of his trunk.

"Ron, we have a serious problem."

"What?"

"My cloak is gone."

"What?" Ron shot over to look in the trunk. "But the only people who knew where it was, would be you, me-"

"And Hermoine."

  
  


************

  
  


Patrice slowly opened her eyes. She was surprised to find herself in control enough to even open her eyes. Being possessed by Voldemort had been painful. She had been in a swirling, angry darkness.

"Have a pleasant sleep, girl?" hissed a voice.

"No, I can't say I did," Patrice replied. She struggled to stand. There was something heavy around her. It took her foggy mind a moment to realize she was chained to the ground. "Love the fashion accessories, though."

"Well, I need to rest too, after all, I am human." He chuckled.

"You stretch the definition," she replied softly. "Why let me out of the darkness?"

"Because, unlike your mother, you have information I would like to get. That requires you to be conscious."

"I am not going to give anything to you. I would never betray my friends to you."

"Perhaps, perhaps not." She felt him draw closer, but she could not see. It was still too dark. "You have marvelous power, girl. Join us. There will be a great reward for you when we triumph."

"I would never sell my soul to you."

"Never say never. After all, your body already belongs to me. Make it complete, and I guarantee it will be easier for you." He chuckled again. "Do not answer now. Enjoy a night in the darkness, alone. I will return for you in a few days, when I have more time to break you. Until then, girl, enjoy yourself." His dark presence receded, and Patrice was left alone.

  
  


Patrice shivered. She was so cold, so lonely. She could hardly remember a time when she had been this lonely. . . She always had her family, and when she was twelve, Athena, to keep her company. But she had forfeited Athena, given her link to Kalina. She knew she was going to die. The phoenixes would not allow her to live, they would not let Voldemort have access to their precious secrets. Ironically, she could not give him that information. The information was slowly leaving her memory. When it did it would be gone forever, locked inside Kalina. She could not give Voldemort what he desired because her knowledge of all things phoenix was sealed within her phoenix powers. Kalina would safe-guard it for her.

  
  


Patrice closed her eyes. She could feel the pendant her father had sent her. She could no longer communicate with him either. To protect him she had stored that knowledge away with her other powers. He needed to live, to ensure Harry could live. Harry needed to live. He still had a chance, he just needed to grow up a bit. . .

  
  


Patrice began to cry. She could not help it. She felt so weak, so alone. An owl hooted somewhere outside.

"Athena, forgive me. Please, find happiness with Kalina." She could almost hear Athena calling out to her. She missed her friend. Athena had been with her for so long, but it was nothing more then a memory. For a moment, Patrice understood why her sister had been so depressed when Mako, her sparrow familiar, had been killed. At least she knew that Athena was alright, for now. She was the one who was going to die.

  
  


Patrice heard another hoot, closer this time. It came from inside her dark prison.

"Athena?" Patrice whispered. She banished the thought. It couldn't be Athena. Athena could no longer sense her. She had cut that link, passed it to Kalina. 

"Whooo," came the mournful call. Patrice pulled herself up so she was sitting. She knew Athena's call.

"Athena!" she called louder. She heard a soft flapping, then scraping on stone. Soft feathers nudged against her hand. "Is that you Athena?"

"Who," was the response. The owl gave her an affectionate nip. Patrice smiled, gently stroking her owl with a finger. She heard the shuffle of feet.

"Hide, Athena," Patrice whispered. Athena did not move.

  
  


Light suddenly exploded into Patrice's vision. She looked up, and she saw Hermoine standing outside her cell. She held a flashlight and her wand.

"Hermoine? How did you find me?"

"Athena did most of the work."

"Athena? You can talk to Athena?" Patrice asked, her head reeling. 

"Yes." Hermoine cast a few spells, and had Patrice free in a matter of minutes. Patrice hugged her friend. "Let's get you out of here, Patrice."

"Hermoine, it doesn't matter where we go. He'll be able to find me. And pretty soon the Phoenixes will come to get me."

"Your sister said she'd buy me some time." Hermoine threw the invisibility cloak over them both. "It took me a long time to find you. I'm not giving up on you. If I have to, I'll plead your case to the head of our order."

"Hermoine, leave me, please."

"No." Hermoine grasped her firmly. "I'll get us out of here."

"Apparate away, Hermoine."

"I can't. I don't know how."

"Let my magic guide you. It's one of the skills that is part of my magic I passed on to you."

Hermoine was silent for a moment. "Why me, Patrice?" she asked softly.

"I thought I had given my powers to Kalina, but the spell transferred my powers to the most compatible Phoenix member in a kilometer range. Apparently, you're more compatible then Kalina." Patrice heaved a sigh. "But you are going to be caught, and if you're caught you'll be killed for sure. Leave me."

"No. You are my friend, and I am not giving up on you." Hermoine closed her eyes for a moment. Patrice saw a cat inch toward them in the darkness, and she felt a jolt.

  
  


When Patrice could see again she was staring up at the star-filled sky.

"Hermoine, you okay?"

"Fine," Hermoine muttered. Her head was floating above Patrice.

"Cloak," Patrice said. Hermoine laughed and pulled the cloak off. 

"I wish you had warned me that I'd have such a headache if I did that," Hermoine muttered, pressing a hand to her temple.

"Hermoine, you just transported me, our familiars and yourself in a single spell. You wouldn't be able to do it if you didn't have my powers working with your own." Patrice stood. Athena flew over to her, sitting on her shoulder.

"Oh, Athena, I'm sorry, my friend. You don't belong with me. Hermoine's your mistress now." Athena blinked at her.

"I'm sorry, Athena. Forgive me, but I cannot be your mistress any more! Go to Hermoine!" Athena jumped off her shoulder, looking hurt. She landed on Hermoine's shoulder.

  
  


Patrice burst into tears. She began running up the grassy hill. She didn't know where she was running, but she had to get away from them. Their friendship would destroy them.

"You did not think I would let you get away that easily?" asked a voice. "You chose poorly, Patrice." Patrice screamed. She heard Hermoine call her name, and then the stars were gone. She was plunged into a cold, angry darkness. This time she knew there was no escaping for her.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25:

  
  


Hermoine saw Patrice fall. She froze, unsure of what to do.

"Athena, go get help," she whispered to the bird. "Be quick, or we may lose her!" She broke out into a run, kneeling beside Patrice. Patrice lay still. She was alive, her heart beating, and she was breathing, but her eyes stared at something only she could see.

"Patrice, Patrice, get up! Wake up!"

  
  


Patrice began to move. She blinked, and looked over at Hermoine. Hermoine could see no spark of recognition in her eyes.

"Hermoine?" Patrice said. It was her voice, but Hermoine knew Voldemort had spoken with Patrice's mother's voice. "Where's Athena?"

"I don't know. She took off, and I can't see her anywhere. Maybe she went hunting." Hermoine helped Patrice to her feet, still waiting for sign that Patrice knew her. 

"Let's go home. I'm sure the professors will be searching frantically for us." Hermoine gave a grave nod. She felt like she was going to be sick. Voldemort had Patrice in his power! She pulled out her wand, and felt up her robe sleeve. It was still there. Good.

  
  


They walked in silence for a few moments. Hermoine noticed they were getting very close to the edge of the hill overlooking Hogsmeade. She felt her stomach drop. She looked over at Crockshanks.

"Sirius is down below. If something happens to me, go get him."

"But, Hermoine!"

"You must Crockshanks. There is no other choice."

  
  


Hermoine gave Patrice a grin. 

"There, you see it? Doesn't Hogwarts look beautiful from up here?"

"Sure does," Voldemort agreed in Patrice's voice. She smiled back at Hermoine. "Thanks, Hermoine." The voice changed. "You have been most helpful, mudblood." She pulled out her wand from her pocket. "Enjoy the afterlife." 

"No!" cried a voice. Athena swooped it, knocking the wand from Patrice's hand. "Hermoine, run, get out of here!" Athena swooped toward Patrice again. Before Hermoine could go more then a few steps, Athena fell from the sky. Patrice grinned as she held the smoking wand in her hand. Her eyes were glowing red. Hermoine felt like she was going to be sick.

"I thought I could go nice and easy on you," Voldemort's voice said. "But since you want to play, so be it. I think I will enjoy this." 

  
  


Hermoine pulled out her wand. Voldemort grinned, and in a moment, Hermoine found herself sitting on the ground, stunned. Voldemort picked up her wand.

"Poor Potter. He's going to be so crushed." He came closer to her. "To loose one of one's best friends after loosing his parents. . . I just hope that it doesn't push him over the edge. After all, killing him myself would be much more fun."

  
  


Hermoine found she could barely move. Her legs had gone completely numb. She felt it hit her arm. She knew what she had to do. Summoning all her strength she made a fist around the knife, and swung it at Voldemort. He fell back with a cry, that turned to Patrice's voice.

"Hermoine!" she cried out. "Hermoine please!" Then Voldemort's voice returned.

"My, my, what little loyalty you have for your friend. If you kill me, she dies too."

"If I kill you, Harry will be safe." She swung the knife at him again, but Patrice caught her hand. She tore the knife away from Hermoine, and began twisting her arm.

"He killed Athena!" Hermoine cried. "Patrice! Help me!"

  
  


She felt the wind around her move. Patrice shoved her away.

"Goodbye, Hermoine," Patrice's voice said. "Thank you." And she stabbed herself.

"Patrice!" A dark cloud exploded out of Patrice. Hermoine watched, too stunned to do anything else. The dark cloud snaked into the air, and was gone. 

  
  


Hermoine tried to get up, but she could not. She smelt burning. A fire errupted off the face of the hill, and Hermoine saw a pheonix fly at them. She passed out.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26:

  
  


Hermoine came awake in her own bed. She looked around at her walls, the familiar bookselves, Mr Fuzzy-Wuzzy propped up against her pillow. 

"Hermoine, honey?" asked her mother's voice. Hermoine smiled lazzily at her mother.

"Mom, I've had the oddest dream. I dreamed I went to a wizarding school. . ."

"Hermoine, you do go to Hogwarts." Her mother's words jolted her back.

"Mom, what happened to Patrice? And why aren't I at school?"

"They sent you home. I've had that dratted owl post coming in every day from friends of yours."

"What happened to Patrice?"

"Patrice?"

"My friend, who was with me. . . . Kevin's step-daughter!"

"Kevin who, honey?"

"Next door!"

"That house has been up for sale since September, honey. Must have been part of your dream." Her mother felt her forehead. "You don't have a fever."

"Mom, I have to go back to school!"

"Hermoine, I'm sure Mr and Mrs Weasely can take you up in the summer when you go to visit Ron. Your headmaster called, and said you need to rest."

"Mom, I need to know what happened!"

"You were struck by lightning. Don't you remember?"

"No!" Hermoine felt panic building up inside her. 

"Listen, honey, you just rest, and I'll contact that wizard doctor your principal told me to call."

  
  


Hermoine watched her mother go. She felt sick. Had she dreamed it all? Patrice, Athena, talking to Crockshanks? Was that part of a dream induced by being hit by lightning?

"Crockshanks!" she called out silently. "Crockshanks! Please answer!" Her cat trotted into the room.

"Glad to see you're awake, Hermoine. I've missed you." Hermoine began to cry. She hugged Crockshanks.

"I thought I had dreamed talking to you. Please, do you know what happened to Patrice?"

"No. I'm sorry Hermoine, but I don't know anything." 

"I'm just glad you're all right, Crockshanks. At least I still have you."

  
  


The telephone rang. It was a long distance ring. Hermoine reached over and answered the phone by her bed. It was a collect call from Harry.

"Hermoine?" he said, from the other line.

"Harry! I'm so glad to hear from you!"

"How are you feeling?"

"Aweful. Like a train hit me."

"Well, maybe you can try that next," he suggested with a laugh. "After getting hit by lightning, a little train couldn't hurt so bad." Hermoine laughed, but it felt forced. She started to ask about Patrice, but she changed her mind.

"Is your cloak okay?" she asked.

"Yeah. You weren't wearing it when you were struck. Don't you remember?"

"Not really."

"I'm sorry, Hermoine. Look, I got to go. My uncle sent me to the store for eggs. He won't be happy I took so long."

"It's good to hear your voice, Harry. I'll talk to you later."

"Hope you feel better soon, Hermoine."

"Thanks Harry. Bye."

  
  


Hermoine sat in her room, slowly stroking Crockshanks. She called out to Athena, just in case the link still remained. Hermoine felt a jolt of sadness, when she remembered the brave bird falling from the sky.

"It will be all right it time, Hermoine," Crockshanks promised her. Hermoine curled up with her cat. She drifted into a peaceful sleep.

  
  
  
  


The last week in July, she went to learn to apparate. She was gone an entire week. She had told Ron and Harry that it was a muggle summer camp, so they wouldn't send her any owls. She didn't think she could stand to see another owl. She had only seen one since Athena had fallen. It had been Hedwig, bringing news from Harry, news about Mrs Coeur, who had quit. Once again, the Defence Against the Dark Arts had been left empty.

  
  


At the end of the week, she was called before Dumbledore. She had become very good at apparation. She apparated to the desk, where the same two women had greeted her with Mrs Coeur and Patrice sat. The smiled at her, and waved her in. Hermoine found herself once more in the dark room. 

"Mis Granger, glad to see you alive and well," Dumbledore said, coming out of the shadows. Fawkes was perched on his shoulder. "You gave us quite a scare. Tell me, whatever possessed you to take on Voldemort by yourself?"

"He had a friend of mine, Professor. What was I supposed to do?"

"You were supposed to listen to Mrs Coeur, and back off. Let other Pheonixes handle it."

"She would have been killed! I wasn't going to let that happen."

"Hermoine, did you stop it from happening?" he asked softly.

"I don't know! I have no way to contact her! I cannot find a record of her anywhere!" She looked up at him. "Please, Professor, you must tell me what happened to her!"

"Patrice Esotich has had her achievements stricken from the record of the Pheonix Order. She disbeyed a very important law: she gave herself, willingly, to Voldemort."

"She did it to save our lives! My life!"

"Which is the only reason she still lives, Miss Granger. Now, I have important things to do. This information will have to suffice. Any record at all of Patrice living here has been destroyed. Four people remember what happened this year, and you are one of them. Please content yourself with that."

  
  


He turned and began walking away.

"Your assignment will arrive by owl post the day before you board the train for school. Best of luck in the new year, Hermoine." Then he was gone. Hermoine turned and left the room. Patrice lived. At least there was that.


	27. Epilogue

  
  


Epilogue:

  
  


Hermoine read the note over once more just to be certain.

"Hermoine Granger, your assignment, until otherwise notified, is this: protect Harry Potter. Do not allow him to enter into dangerous situations, and always make sure that he is being protected by either you or your partner at all times.

"Your partner is a new transfer student to the school. She will be sitting on the train, in the last car, eating a "Mars" muggle-made candy bar. She will know your name. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you met at summer camp."

  
  


Hermoine stuck the note back into her pocket. She sighed.

"Something wrong, Hermoine?" Ron asked. He shoved her trunk into the baggage check.

"Nothing." She bent over, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He reddened. "I'll see you on board?"

"Sure thing." He kissed her once, then he ran back to where his mother was waiting to bid him goodbye.

  
  


Hermoine set Crockshanks down on an empty chair.

"Keep the seat warm for me," she whispered, before hurrying to the last car. It was dark. She could make out the silhouette of a person.

"Hello," she said reluctantly. The door slammed shut behind her, and Hermoine felt the familiar buzz of magic in the air, sealing her in with the person in the shadows. "So, you're my partner, huh?"

  
  


Hermoine pulled out her wand, and with a flick of her wrist, the car lit up. Hermoine blinked a few times to make sure she was seeing things right. A familiar smile greeted her.

"Patrice!" she cried, running forward. She ran forward and hugged her friend.

"Hermoine, I'm glad to see you," Patrice whispered. "I was hoping, when they told me I'd be back here, that you were my partner." 

"I thought you had been killed."

"Naw. Takes more then a little knife to kill me. I just wanted Voldemort to run, that's all." Her face fell. "But I was demoted, to Tenth Rank."

"That's my rank."

"I know." Patrice pulled up a cloth over an owl cage.

"Athena!" Hermoine cried, delighted to see the bird. Athena opened her eyes. She blinked at Hermoine.

"Whoo," she cooed, recognizing her. Athena had a long, jagged scar across her left wing.

"She can't fly very well anymore," Patrice said, "but she's just glad to be alive."

"You can talk to her again?"

"Sure. You gave back my magic. Don't you remember?"

"Not really. It's all a blank to me."

"Just as well, my friend."

  
  


Hermoine grabbed Athena's cage.

"What's up, Hermoine?"

"You're coming to sit with me. There's enough space."

"But I'm not supposed to know you."

"We met at summer camp," Hermoine reminded her with a grin. "Just don't try to steal Ron out from under me." 

"I wouldn't," Patrice replied, laughing. "It will be just like old times, but only the two of us will know."

  
  


Hermoine sat down next to Ron. 

"So these are the friends you've been telling me about," Patrice said. 

"Is that an American accent?" Ron asked. Hermoine burst out laughing. So did Patrice. Harry and Ron gave them odd looks.

"I'm from Canada. Name's Patrice. Nice to meet you."

  
  



End file.
